


If I Was Your Vampire

by SaraLecter77



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, F/F, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraLecter77/pseuds/SaraLecter77
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is an ancient vampire and has grown bored with life's tedium. He amuses himself by tearing apart humans in lavish ways and feeding them to his unknowing social circle (he is the Chesapeake Ripper). This puts him in trouble with the Vampire Council, which sends Bedelia DuMaurier to Baltimore under the guise of trying to persuade Hannibal to chill on the murder theatre. Vampires are still "in the coffin" (closet). Will still works for the FBI, hunting serial killers. Basic premise is canon, Hannibal comes on board to evaluate Will for Jack. Some same plot points, but a whole lot of twists involved. Murder Wives and Murder Husbands will live, despite all the angst on the journey.





	1. If I Was Your Vampire

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading! This fic is basically a Vampire AU with a lot of the characters, plot, and dialogue from Bryan Fuller’s brilliant series. My other inspiration is Marilyn Manson, because since viewing Hannibal like 70 percent of his lyrics remind me of Hannigram - hence the song titles as Chapters. :) I sort of let that guide me, for fun. And Vampires are my other "thing", so here we are, kids.
> 
> You’ll see a lot of dialogue that is *similar* to the dialogue in the screenplay/show, and that’s intentional on my part. I wanted to write a love letter to the show essentially, so I’m just going to pull whatever’s in my head out and not reference the original sources, whether they be Thomas Harris’ or Fuller’s, but it’s definitely their creation for a lot of it. 
> 
>  
> 
> tl/dr - Now that crap is out of the way, please enjoy. xxoo

_Chapter 1: If I Was Your Vampire_

 

 _“_ If I was your vampire,

Certain as the moon,

Instead of killing time,

We'll have each other

Until the sun.

If I was your vampire,

Death waits for no one.

Hold my hands

Across your face,

Because I think

Our time has come.”

 

~”If I Was Your Vampire” - Marilyn Manson

 

Being as old as he is, there is very little humanity left in Hannibal Lecter. Boredom is the only real emotion that his literally cold, dead heart has felt for decades. _Centuries_ even… exception being the occasional twinge of wrath he feels when he feels that he’s been wronged or insulted. He simply has no time for rudeness anymore.

But basically, when it boils down to it, Hannibal is just endlessly _bored_. He catches his mind wandering and tries to keep himself focused on his current client: an overweight, emotional, disgustingly neurotic man that’s dribbling tears and snot all over himself like an oversized infant in a hideous sportcoat. It’s no accident that he gets paid a ridiculous amount of money to listen to these idiots whine about their banal problems. Hannibal sighs in his tedium, rolls his eyes, and glances over at his client.

 “I’m afraid if you were anything other than neurotic Franklin, you would be something far worse,” he blithely answers the sobbing man, a vague attempt at a small placation.

 “I just don’t understand why we can’t be friends! We have so much in common! I saw you last week at the Whole Foods picking out some cheese. I _love_ cheese. Do you love cheese? I bet you do. I--”

 “Time’s up for now,” he responds, summarily handing the man the box of Kleenex from the end table. Both men reach the ends of their arm lengths as he passes the box, as Hannibal moved the two chairs in his office further apart after Franklin reached out and touched Hannibal’s knee last week, which is completely unacceptable.

No one is allowed to put their hands anywhere on Hannibal’s body without permission, human or vampire. Not only is it unspeakably rude, it is also dangerous… primarily for whomever dares to touch Hannibal, as it could mean their likely doom. No one can know Hannibal’s secrets, after all.

And oh, so many secrets the enigmatic creature has hidden behind his polished exterior and sphynx-like smile. The fact that he’s older than just about anyone he’s ever met can't be known for starters… so old that there are actual myths about his origins. Humans have always found him special and otherworldly, but when they actually went ahead and made him a _God?_ He felt almost fond of his followers.

 _Kuk_ (the name Hannibal’s Egyptian followers gave him), is one of the eight primordial elements known to make up the creation myth of the Ogdoad. For some reason they chose the God dedicated to darkness to as a frog-headed man, along with the female snake Goddess _Kuaket_ , which was the name they gave his beloved Mischa. Bringers of light through the eternal darkness.

_Oh Mischa._

It has been centuries, but he will never be completely over the loss of her, the only light to his own darkness, the sun to his moon. She was everything to him, and the only reason he still isn’t overcome with rage and sadness still is that he was able to enact his own version of justice to those that _dared_ to take her life from her veins, killing her in the process.

In the end, consuming her blood secondhand made him one of the most powerful creatures on earth. It wasn’t the way he longed to have his only sibling with him throughout the centuries.Sometimes when the nights seemed too dark and too long he would try to remember what her sweet voice sounded like, the sound of her laugh as he thought about her essence in his veins, helping to make him strong and powerful. He has debated meeting the sun on purpose himself, but won’t tarnish Mischa’s memory or sacrifice her precious blood.

He knows he will never love anyone like he loved his sister. Once the world burned with his revenge for her loss he went to ground for a while, bored with everything and so, so tired. Centuries later he dug himself out, a dessicated husk of a man, and brought himself back to strength and quelling his bloodlust in the Punic Wars.  Eventually, after being unable to wrest Rome from the other “Gods,” he decided to amuse himself with other adventures, primarily academic in nature.

Hannibal became a student of both mind and body, again fascinated with the inner workings of human bodies and the emergence of medical science. He cleverly disguised his curiosity as caring for mankind, becoming an adept surgeon while conducting his own experiments on his own blood to discover the origins and limits of his power. It seemed almost anti-climatic when he realized that vampirism, for all its myths, turns out to be nothing more than a simple virus.

Once he discovered this, his focus changed to seeking all of the ways that the virus makes other vampires vulnerable. Vulnerability means that the power can be _taken_ , _stolen, absorbed._ With every other vampire he drained, his own strength grew as he absorbed the other monsters’ strengths into himself. He liked to muse that he himself was the reason vampires were so rare.

When his science experiments became a bore, Hannibal decided to try to pick apart humans from the inside, to slowly drive them mad from their own neuroses. Initially he found some of the violent offenders amusing, but soon they all became monotonous and he began to go back to picking them apart physically as a means of destruction… but if he was honest he never really stopped in the first place.

Becoming the Chesapeake Ripper took his experiments to a whole new level, near whimsy in the violence and beauty he left for others to puzzle over. The game wasn’t really much of a game after all, as the Vampire virus had made him a perfect killing machine: superhuman strength, agility, heightened senses, and quite near-immortality. He simply couldn’t be caught. He even can venture out into the sun for brief periods, helping protect his secrets by keeping a regular schedule and himself from suspicion. Keeping his home and office in a soothing womb-like dark served a dual purpose - blocking out the annoying sunlight that can weaken him and also pacifying the human cattle that came into his personal space to be slaughtered one way or another.

_Moo._

Recently he has heard rumblings that his nocturnal activities have come to the attention of the Council, which was essentially the Vampires’ governing agency, based in Florence, Italy. They sent over a Council representative, Dr. Bedelia DuMaurier, to take stock of the situation under the guise of befriending Hannibal. Hannibal is no longer interested in friends, but for now toying with Bedelia brings a break to the nauseating monotony of the continued tedium as his newest human incarnation of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. The fact that the Council is now headed by the Verger siblings, the male being of one of the undead that murdered Mischa, makes this visit very, _very_ personal.

Up until this point Mason Verger has been coddled  and protected from Hannibal’s wrath as well, hidden in secrecy. The fact that his emissary is now in his orbit is nothing short of absolutely _delicious._

Hannibal quickly ushers Franklin towards the patient entrance after confirming his next appointment, although he’s sure he’s just going to give him a referral to a different doctor. His little crush won’t be tolerated, the last thing Hannibal needs is a stalker, even if it is a lovesick amateur one.

Franklin stammers a goodbye and abruptly crashes into a large, imposing black man who rises from the bench in the waiting room.

“Doctor Lecter,” he begins, offering his hand. Hannibal fed between clients so while his hands will be cool, they won’t be alarmingly so. “Jack Crawford, Behavioral Science Unit, FBI,” he finishes.

Hannibal accepts his hand, being careful not to squeeze too hard. While always graceful in movement, sometimes he forgets his own strength and just exactly how fragile humans are, despite their size.

“I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?”

“Ah, I’m afraid not doctor.”

 “Well then you’ll have to wait. This entrance is for patients only...unless this is about him?” he asks, gesturing slightly to his increasingly panicked patient.

 “Oh no doctor, I’m afraid I’m here to speak with you,” his deep voice rattles inside Hannibal’s skull from the sound bouncing around the small space the men are in.

 “Well then, a few moments please.” Hannibal brusquely shuts the office door, leaving the mismatched pair of men to stare, shocked, at each other until Franklin awkwardly shuffles away, his wild eyes reflecting all of the possibilities about the scenario in his imagination.

Hannibal briefly shuts his eyes to block out all of the extra stimuli around him to think better. It’s a human gesture that he kept mainly out of desire to blend in better with his prey, but in this case it’s an entirely genuine reaction.

Hannibal wonders why the FBI are here. Have they discovered something at one of his crime scenes? Frankly it’s impossible for that have happened. Besides taking the regular precautions about fingerprints, hair and the like, he has an entire murder suit tailored to his needs that covered his entire body, an additional barrier. If he accidentally left his DNA behind it would put not not only himself at danger but the entire vampire race as it would become apparent that it was something other than the normal 23 pairs of chromosomes that human bodies contain.

Perhaps someone in the coven who is envious of his lifestyle mentioned him and put his name in at the FBI as a suspect? He can’t bring any current immediate quarrels to mind. For the most part he and the rest of the local Baltimore coven left each other alone. There was a brief incident with a trombonist at the symphony, but the other vampire backed down when confronted immediately.

He pads over to the refrigerator in his office and pulls out a blood bag, heats it up briefly in the microwave. He pulls the microwave open before it dings, in case Crawford has his ear to the wall.  He slightly grimaces as he sucks up the contents of the bag, despising having to drink it secondhand. It’s just not the same as sucking someone dry, the viscous fluid pumping out in warm, sweet gushes headed down his throat.

Briefly his fangs drop as he drinks. While his incisors are slightly larger than the average human’s, again, they aren’t alarming… unless he’s in a full bloodlust and they drop further from his jaw. Then the monster within is truly revealed in his savage canines and crimson eyes.

There hasn’t been danger of that in decades.

Warmed and pink cheeked from the reheated blood of the dry-cleaner that overcharged him last month, he decides to face Crawford and opens the door.

“Agent Crawford, please come in.”

“Doctor Lecter, thank you so much for seeing me. I apologize for the intrusion, but it’s become urgent that I speak with you.”

“I see.” Hannibal casually walks over to the sketches he was working on earlier, picking up his pencil and scalpel. He begins using the scalpel to peel small pieces of the pencil off, sharpening the pencil to use as an additional weapon against the agent if he needs to subdue him quickly. He could snap his neck instantly, but he wants answers as to why he literally arrived on his doorstep like an unwanted salesman.

“I was referred to you by Dr. Alana Bloom, I understand you mentored her.”

 “Ah, indeed I did. How is Doctor Bloom?”

 “Doing well. She’s been teaching over at the FBI Academy, BAU, in Quantico.”

 “Excellent. Well you’re in capable hands then,” Hannibal smiles, his paranoia at the strange man beginning to slightly fade. He feels relief, it’s not impossible to get away with the murder of an FBI agent, but he rather likes this little piece of upper crust Baltimore that he’s lorded over since his move here. It would be a pity to have to run again.

 “Yes. Well she turned me on to a paper you wrote, I believe it was called, ah 'Evolutionary Origin of Social Exclusion?'" Jack asks. Hannibal replies with a slight nod, replacing the pencil and scalpel to their rightful location. “Interesting stuff, even for a layman.”

 “You work at the FBI in Behavioral Sciences and you believe you’re a layman?”

 “Compared to you, indeed. Well flattery aside, Doctor, I’m here because we desperately need your help.”

 “Please continue,” Hannibal replies.

 “We have a man on staff… he’s a special agent, and he’s got what you call a _knack_ for the monsters. He somehow can get inside their minds, their thoughts, and catch them. I can’t explain it but it’s one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever seen.”

 Hannibal is skeptical but tilts his head in a practiced measure, showing interest. “I see. And what do you need my help for then? It seems as you have the perfect tool at your disposal.”

  _Tool._ That’s all humans were good for, lower on the food chain, there to be used.

 “Well, while he has the ability make amazing leaps that we can’t explain, it’s uh, hard on him… I’m uh, concerned about his stability.”

  _Interesting._

 “Signs of instability?”

 “Well it’s hard to really tell because he’s well, so awkward anyway, but lately he goes, almost _under_ , and sometimes it’s hard to bring him back again. He’s saving lives, but I’m worried about his health. We’re working on a particularly emotional case and I know he’s not sleeping, and I need to make sure he’s not going to crack.”

 “So you’re looking for an evaluation that he’s psychologically sound?”

 “I’m looking for assurance that he’s stable enough to continue his work for us or not. Hoping like hell there’s not a not.”

 So Crawford’s prized bloodhound isn't neurotypical, and likely falls somewhere on the spectrum. Autism and Asperger’s is still a subject where true scientific advances haven’t occurred yet, and were somewhat interesting to Hannibal. More importantly though, he had to make sure that this Special Agent was nowhere near the truth when it came to the identity of the Chesapeake Ripper.

 “Why isn’t Doctor Bloom doing the evaluation, if I may ask?”

 “Ah, she and Will, that’s his name, Will Graham, have struck up a bit of a friendship. He also teaches at Quantico and she doesn’t feel she can be objective in her evaluation, so she recommended you.”

  _Aha._ Well if Alana has brought him into her circle, he must at least be somewhat intriguing also. Hannibal quickly agrees to do the evaluation, and sets a time up to go to Crawford’s office to observe Graham and discuss the situation.

 The last thought that he has as he escorts the agent back out the door is that he has a strange feeling. He has to smile softly to himself.

  _Hannibal is curious what will happen._


	2. You And Me And The Devil Makes Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal travel to MN when Elise Nichols is returned to her bed. They go to the Hobbs home.

_ Chapter 2:  _ _ You And Me And the Devil Makes Three _

 

“You and me and the devil makes three

You and me…

Murder cute happy rape

Murder cute happy rape

Killer.

There’s not a word for what I want to do to you

There's not a word for what I want to do to you

I shot your face, but it was as cold as ice…

Killer.” 

~”You And Me And the Devil Makes Three” - Marilyn Manson

 

Hannibal perches on the edge of the chair in front of Jack Crawford’s desk, slowly sipping the bitter brew Crawford politely provided him upon entering his office.  While the taste of coffee is something that Hannibal could give or take, the heat from the beverage is absolutely  _ delicious.  _

Zoning out on Crawford’s baritone voice and enjoying the reaching fingers of liquid heat spreading through his long-dead digestive system, Hannibal is nearly startled out of his daydreaming by the whirlwind of a man that comes barreling through Crawford’s doorway.

“Sorry….sorry, got caught in the lab helping Zeller with some crap,” he gestures with a wild wave aimed at no one in particular and walks over to the coffee maker and pours himself a cup, nearly tripping over a box of files on the office floor.  He’s dressed casually, in a plaid shirt, khaki pants and work boots. He has a softness to him that his glasses can’t hide, delicate features and riot of brown curls that instantly reminds Hannibal of Raphael’s angels.  _ Beautiful. _

Hannibal rises from the chair and extends his hand, dark eyes sparkling with interest. “Will Graham?” Will gives a slight nod in acknowledgement, as they shake, his eyes barely glancing at the doctor’s face as their hands meet. “Hannibal Lecter.”

“Doctor Lecter is here to help us work on a psychological profile,” Jack inserts, watching the two men shake hands briefly. Will then wanders over to the large wall showing a map of the state of Minnesota and several photos of beautiful young women, all with long dark hair and blue eyes. 

“They are all very…. Mall of America,” Will notes, his head tilting slightly to the side and he attempts to look for a pattern to the abductions and probable murders that the FBI is absolutely desperate to crack. 

“How is he choosing them?” Jack asks. 

“Mmm. Not sure. What patterns do we know of so far?” Will continues, transfixed on the display on Jack’s wall.

“They disappear typically on Friday afternoons after work or school and are never seen again. All in the age of 18-20, all dark hair and big eyes. They just disappear off of the map. Doctor Lecter is a colleague of Alana Bloom’s, he’s here to help us with his insight.”

“Whatever your abductor is doing, he needs the whole weekend to do it,” Hannibal replies, looking over at Will, who nods and takes another drink of coffee. “He requires privacy for his work. Not fond of eye contact are you?” he asks Will directly.

“Eyes are distracting.  See too much, don't see enough, and it's hard to focus when you're thinking, 'oh those whites are really white,' or 'he must have hepatitis...' “Will sneers, chuckling mirthlessly.   “So, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.”

“ I imagine what you see and learn touches everything else in your mind. Your values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations, appalled at your dreams. No forts in the bone arena of your skull for things you love.”  Hannibal can’t help but smile back, when their eyes finally connect, the rage is absolutely  _ pouring _ off of Will Graham in a gorgeous kaleidoscope of blue-green fury. 

_ What do you love, Will Graham? _

“Who’s psychological profile are you working on?” Will seethes, “Jack, who’s profile is he working on?” He glares back at Hannibal, bearing his teeth in a macabre smile. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. Trust me, you wouldn’t like me when I’m psychoanalyzed.” 

_ Well well well... too bad Mr. Graham... I think I already do. _

“Doctor Lecter is here to help us Will, we are lucky he agreed to take a look at this case. I thought the two of you together can help put a face on this monster. You’re the best of the best.”

“Where do you think we should start, Agent Crawford?” Hannibal asks smoothly, a slight smile threatening to tug up the corners of his mouth as he attempts to change the subject back to something more neutral. While he’s very interested to see what’s lurking behind the brilliant blue eyes of Will Graham, he instinctively knows that this is not the time to push any further. Cracking the puzzle of his beautiful mind will take some time… but he has all the time in the world, after all. 

“Well Doctor, since you’re new coming onboard the team, it would make sense for you to take the case file and peruse at your convenience. In the meantime, Will and I are going to go interview the parents of the last girl taken, Elise Nichols. She was noted missing this morning when her parents came home from vacation and it appeared she had never been home for the weekend when she was supposed to house sit.”

***

“Thank you for the update Jack. I feel like I have a good grasp of the case. I’ll catch the next flight out to Minneapolis,” Hannibal hangs up the phone.  It’s always easier to catch the red-eye, and the urgency of the situation won’t make it seem suspicious.

It seems that the monster Will and Jack are tracking brought his latest poach back to her home of all places. That’s quite a change from the usual pattern where the girls simply vanish. What made this one different enough that the killer risked apprehension to put the girl back into her bed? Why would he tuck her in? Did he attempt penetration and change his mind? Did she fight back? Hannibal has so many questions and can’t wait until he can see Will’s mind in action. Will he be able to make jumps in intuition that normal humans can’t, or will he be a giant disappointment?

_ “Look at them Hannibal, sheep ready for the slaughter,” crimson eyes meet his own, and he watches the sly smile of his beloved sibling slide into place on her beautiful face as they look down at the crowd of people below them. “They have no idea what’s really going on, do they?” _

_ “No Mischa, they don’t. Humans only use a small amount of their brain to keep themselves alive, it would stand to reason that emotional intelligence isn’t high on their list of attributes to spare.  _

_ She lets out a delicate snort. “I suppose it makes them easier to control anyway, but it’s hard to believe that we were ever like them once.” _

_ He smiles back at his sister. “We were never like them, darling. Wolves may coexist with sheep, but there’s no doubt who is higher up on the food chain. Never forget.”  _

Hannibal snaps back to the present, the pain of his sister’s loss still sharp despite the years since her murder. How he wishes she was here to help him with the puzzle of Will Graham. Would be she able to see what makes him so special? Is he really special at all? Only time will tell. 

Hannibal arrives at the Minneapolis Airport, rents a car and heads to Duluth to meet with Will and Jack’s crew, who are processing the Nichol’s crime scene. A brief meeting after his arrival fills him in on the discovery of a sliver of metal from the dead girl’s body, which is currently being analyzed for its source. It’s the first clue the killer has left. He’s getting sloppy, something about this girl shook him. He’s arrived just in time to observe the autopsy, or rather observe Will observing the autopsy. He crew discuss how the girl was speared, likely with antlers, and then the wounds stuffed with antler velvet. The girl was not sexually assaulted. The team discuss her wounds, all post-mortem, and Hannibal’s patience has paid off:

“There was something wrong with the meat.” A pause. “He’s eating them,” Will sighs, a mixture of relief and horror on his face, figuring out the purpose of the abductions. “He loves these girls, and he wants to keep them with them. He felt  _ bad _ about taking this one.”

“Great, a sensitive cannibalistic psychopath,” Jack barks. “How the hell are we going to catch that? So is this one his golden ticket?”

“No...she’s something entirely different. But he’s escalating. He knows he’s going to get caught.” Will says.

“Well, hurry up and go catch him!” Jack bellows back as Beverly comes back with results on the metal. 

“Apparently our guy is a metal worker, factories, plumber, something like that. This particular alloy is used for commercial plumbing. Finally a lead we can use!” 

“Will, Dr. Lecter, I think it’s time for good old fashioned legwork. The two of you pair up and search local construction sites for anything unusual. Bev and Zeller, you two pair up and hit the local community college, they have a plumbing program - see if anyone there stuck out to anyone as being our perp. Price? Keep working the body,” Jack orders.

***

“Garrett Jacob Hobbs,” Will says, examining a personnel file from the third construction site that Hannibal and Will have visited. 

“What’s different about this one?” Hannibal asks.

“Resignation letter, no forwarding address. All the other ones have addresses.” Will turns to the receptionist, who is currently whispering angrily on the phone. “Garrett Jacob Hobbs. What can you tell me about him?”

“Just a second,” the woman hisses to the phone. “Um, like what? He quit a couple weeks ago.”

“What’s he like? Have a daughter? Teenager? Pretty? Auburn Hair?”

“Might have, why do you want to know?”

_ Golden Ticket? _

Hannibal watches Will put this file to the top of the file box. “We should likely check this one out, just to be thorough,” Will says.

“Of course. Well, we are about done here, hmm? Here, let me assist with the files,” he offers, watching Will grab a file box and head to the car. 

“Wait, you can’t take those!” the receptionist complains.

“Actually, he can,” Hannibal sniffs back at the woman, who just gapes in response as she grabs a box Hannibal hands her to haul out to the rental car. Hannibal then grabs the file box with the Hobbs file on top and pretends to lose his grip, the contents of the box spilling out on the floor, earning a poisonous glare from the woman.

“Apologies,” Hannibal smoothly responds. “Go ahead and finish up loading, I’ll clean up and head down in a moment.” Will nods his agreement  and the woman follows him down the stairs of the building.

Hannibal works fast, picking up the office telephone with his pocket square to avoid fingerprints, dials *69 and quickly dials the number on the Hobbs resignation letter. 

“Hello?” A young woman answers the phone.

“Hello. May I please speak with Garrett Jacob Hobbs?”

“Yeah… hang on…. Dad! It’s for you…”

“Hello?” a soft spoken man’s voice.

“Hello, Mr. Garrett Jacob Hobbs?”

“Yes?” the man near-whispers.

“Consider this a courtesy call. I don’t know you and likely never will, but that’s not what’s important. What is important is that  _ they know.”  _  Proverbial bomb dropped, Hannibal hangs up the phone with a smile, curious what will happen. 

***

Will drives their rental car to a typical, suburban neighborhood to the Hobbs residence. At first it appears that nothing special is happening inside. Will unbuckles his seatbelt and begins leisurely walking towards the home, looking back to see if Hannibal is following and glancing up at the birds chirping. Hannibal pretends to be busy with the Hobbs file paperwork when in actuality he’s stalling to watch Will, a feeling of delicious anticipation in his gut. 

_ Oh how he missed this feeling! _

Suddenly the front door of the Hobbs home opens and a woman with her throat cut is shoved out onto the front porch by a man holding a knife. Will instantly springs into action. The man locks the door behind him on his way back inside and Hannibal watches enraptured as Will first tries to stop the bleeding of the dying woman. When it becomes apparent she’s dying regardless, he then refocuses and kicks the door in off the hinges.

_ Stronger than he looks, then. _

Hannibal leisurely unbuckles his seatbelt and begins walking towards the home, looking down at the dead woman on the porch, inhaling the mouth-watering scent of fresh blood, keeping his fangs hidden under his lip. She’s nothing remarkable, just another pig. The monster in him wants nothing more than to attach itself to the gaping hole in the woman’s throat and suck out whatever essence is left.

The sudden sound of gunshots brings him back to the ongoing situation inside the house.

_ BANG BANG BANG BANG…. _

A total of ten. Hannibal briefly worries about Will’s welfare inside, but then decides that if he wasn’t able to take down Hobbs then he isn’t the extraordinary human that he hoped for.  He walks into the house, following Will’s shouts of “No no no!” as a guide.

He reaches the kitchen and Will is trying to stop the bleeding from another throat wound on a young girl bleeding out on the kitchen floor. Her father is slouched against the cupboards, obviously dead and full of bullet holes. The wound on the girl is smaller than the one on her mother, and Hannibal realizes he has the choice to save her or let her die. Will’s emotional reaction to the girl is interesting, and she may be able to be leveraged at some point in the future. Hannibal kneels on the floor, removes Will’s bloody hand from her throat and replaces it with his own larger one, adjusting the angle so that the flow is better stemmed and she will have a chance of survival.

Will seems to have disassociated somewhat now that Hannibal is helping the girl. He comes back to himself long enough to call 911 and have the local authorities come their way, as well as Crawford’s team. Hannibal continues to focus on the girl, always aware of exactly where Will Graham is standing. He’s quietly standing to the side, watching the EMTs work on the girl and prepare her for the ambulance. His face is covered with blood spray from the violent encounters with Hobbs but he is totally unharmed.  Hannibal wishes he was able to see his face when he emptied his gun into the man. 

Perhaps next time. 


	3. Ka-Boom Ka-Boom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will visit Abigail, have a therapy session and become closer. Hannibal begins his seduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes darlings, another chapter. Double prizes today. <3 xo

_ Chapter 3: Ka-Boom Ka-Boom _

 

“I won’t do it with you

I’ll do it to you

I hope this hook gets caught in your mouth…

Don’t Say No

Just Say Now...

I’d like to love you 

but my heart is a sore

I am I am

I am so yours…”

 

~”Ka-Boom Ka-Boom”- Marilyn Manson

Hannibal takes the ambulance to the local hospital with the Hobbs girl, whose name is Abigail. She’s currently in a coma due to her injuries but there is a good chance of recovery. Thinking of how best to leverage the situation, Hannibal sits and rests at her bedside and waits, knowing that Will’s empathy will draw him to the girl like a magnet.

Eventually Hannibal is proven correct, and his vampire hearing hears Will ask the nurse on duty where Abigail’s room is and he heads this way. Quickly he takes the girls hand and feigns sleep. He smells Will come into the room, and then hears the soft sound of the second chair in the room (the one close to the window, which of course Hannibal avoided) being moved over as well. Slowly Hannibal opens his eyes, and blinks slowly a few times, pretending that he’s just been caught cat napping.

“Uh, sorry Dr. Lecter, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright Will. And please, call me Hannibal,” he purrs.

“Okay….Hannibal,” Will responds, trying the name out. “How’s she doing?”

“Well, obviously the coma is a concern, but the thought is that it’s the mind’s way of dealing with all of the trauma and she will come back to us when she’s ready. You saved her, Will.”

_ To US, Will. _

“She’s not out of the woods yet. But yeah… that’s, that’s great news.”

“How are you feeling, Will?”

“Fine, fine. I suppose Jack will put me through the psychological ringer now that I gunned someone down in the line of duty. Standard procedure and all that.”

Hannibal hums. “Hmm. Yes. He and I had a conversation earlier about that. I suggested to him that Doctor Bloom would be an excellent choice to assist you, but he thought that your friendship with her could interfere. He asked if I’d be willing to speak with you about the shooting and assure him that you’re not permanently traumatised.”

“I already told you that I didn’t want you picking around in my head.” Will’s eyes flash angrily.

“I’m aware of that. I thought you might rather have any unpleasant conversations with me instead of Dr. Bloom.”

“She’s not a delicate little flower, Hannibal.”

“Of course not, I was her mentor at Georgetown. I know she’s strong. I was there with you when it all happened, there’s much you won’t have to explain to me, we can get down to business and I can finish your evaluation quickly and you can move on with your life unimpeded.”

“That does have its appeal.”

“Excellent. Ms. Hobbs is to be transferred to Baltimore when she’s stable enough, where you and Jack will be able to question her about her father’s activities. Dr. Bloom and I will of course be on hand to assist.”

***

Back in Baltimore, Hannibal works on a sketch of a Paris street scene from his youth as he waits for the appointed hour for Will to arrive for his evaluation. It has been a while, but he almost could describe this feeling of anticipation as  _ excitement _ . Finally he will have Will Graham all to himself and be able to begin work on cultivating the darkness that he knows is lurking underneath all of that pure empathy.

Ten shots are not required to drop a man with a knife, after all.

The only way to know for certain what secrets Will Graham contains is if he has a taste. One of the greatest powers vampires have is being able to absorb the strengths of whoever they are feeding from. It does contain risks as well, if you aren’t strong enough to absorb and deal with the negatives of a human’s personality it could render you a slave to those emotions. It is for this reason that Hannibal only needs a taste.

_ For now. _

It’s become apparent throughout their interactions that Will  is generally clumsy, so Hannibal decides it won’t be difficult to place an offending object in the man’s way to cause injury. Being a medical doctor, it would make perfect sense to allow Hannibal to dress his wound… and test drive his perfect empathy in the process.

A chime on the clock in Hannibal’s office alerts him to the hour, and the time for speaking with Will has finally arrived. Hannibal rises from his mahogany desk and takes his scalpel and pencil and lays them in the corner of his desk, points out. He then walks over to the door and opens it, and Will springs up from his seat as if it were on fire.

“Han--er, Dr. Lecter.”

“Hannibal is fine. Please come in,” he gestures to Will.

Will cards his hand through his hair, tangling the curls on the side. “I wasn’t sure if you know, I should call you Doctor or…”

“We are past the point of formalities, don’t you think? Please, sit down.” He stands still as Will begins to walk around him and slightly moves one foot in Will’s path, causing him to stumble slightly, catching his palm on the corner of the desk and hissing in pain.

“Dammit! Ow! Oh God, I’m sorry Hannibal…” Will stutters, his embarrassment bringing a gorgeously heated pink to his cheeks. “I’m such a klutz! I ruined your drawing…”

“Will! I’m dreadfully sorry. How careless of me to leave my tools out where you could be injured.”

“I could get injured in a paper bag, it’s not your fault,” Will argues.

“Please, may I?” Hannibal reaches his hand out for Will’s and the man reluctantly shows him an angry red line on his palm. “Fortunately not too deep. I have some surgical glue in the back?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, thank you,” Will answers. As Will looks up to meet Hannibal’s eyes and then dart around the room, Hannibal has smoothly caught a drop of blood from the oozing palm.

Hannibal turns around with a slow, devious smile threatening to break the smooth planes of his face. Will Graham’s mind may be unique, but so far his behavior is predictable. What an enigma the man is turning out to be. 

As soon as Hannibal reaches the corner of the bathroom his cold pink tongue snakes out to capture the rapidly cooling blood he collected.

_ Overwhelmed doesn’t begin to describe it. _

Nervousness, anxiety (so much anxiety!), confusion make up the primary current emotions of Will Graham, which aren’t surprising, but as Hannibal rolls the drop around on his palate he discovers so much more… a quick wit, a soft spot for animals and children, loneliness, aptitude for the mechanical, guilt (over Abigail), and the amazing sharp brilliance of his intellect. He not only can read people’s body language with an ability that rival’s Hannibal’s but he literally _ feels _ what he can imagine… and his imagination is on FIRE. Buried underneath all of this is a facet of darkness… as black and infinite as Hannibal’s own lack of soul… and that darkness is very, very attracted to Hannibal Lecter. Hannibal can feel  _ everything. _

This in itself isn’t shocking, as the vampire virus enhances the prettiest human traits as part of the transition, and makes them nearly irresistible to their prey. It’s just another tool in the arsenal. What’s so interesting about Will though is that the attraction tastes different than it usually does… it isn’t purely sexual. It’s multi-faceted and almost complicated… and just like that, as Will’s delicious essence fades Hannibal cannot fathom waiting for more.

Should he just drain him now and decipher and absorb it all? Jack knows that he was headed for his appointment, but Will could just vanish on the way easily enough. The timing is such that it would be assumed he had some sort of a nervous breakdown and left. It wouldn’t be a stretch at all. Or there's always the Chesapeake Ripper... Will could find him.

But what if… what if  _ finally _ Will is the one he’s been waiting for? Someone to understand him, pass the time with, someone to love and mold like he did Mischa? He feels a twinge of guilt for wanting to take a new companion, but it has been so very long. 

Someone to  _ kill _ with him. Two monsters covered in the blood of another.  _ Mason’s. _

Hannibal stared into Will’s darkness and the darkness stared right back...and smiled. 

Still uncertain if Will would make a suitable companion or just another glorious facet to his near immortal power, Hannibal decides against making an impetuous decision. He needs to explore this connection with Will further before he decides to drain him or keep him. He proceeds with retrieving the surgical glue from his first aid kit as planned. He also grabs a bottle of red wine, two wine glasses and a syringe.

Quickly he withdraws a vial of his own blood and squirts it into the opened wine and swirls it to mix.  If he’s going to cultivate Will’s attraction to him, a blood bond is the quickest way to do this. With a blood bond, Hannibal will be able to know in general where Will is, what his emotions are, and most importantly he will have access to Will’s unconscious and his dreamscape. He walks back out into the main room, and Will looks at the wine curiously.

“I assumed with the week we’ve had and how this evening’s progressing that a glass of wine may be welcome,” Hannibal answers with a raised eyebrow.

Will chuckles and responds, “It seems again that we’re riding the line of unprofessional again, Doctor.” Hannibal leans over and retrieves a piece of paper with his signature on the bottom, handing it to Will.

“Did you just rubber stamp me?!” Will asks, incredulous, slightly grimacing at the sting from the glue that Hannibal is applying to his palm.

“Indeed. Completely functional and sane. Well done. Now we can proceed with our conversation unimpeded as friends.”

“So that’s what this is now, friends having conversations?”

“It can be whatever you want or need it to be, Will.” Hannibal finishes cleaning and dressing Will’s palm and passes him a glass of wine. Will accepts and takes one of the chairs facing each other. Hannibal decides it’s time to dive right in. 

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Um, I have no idea.”

“What about your mother?”

“That’s some low lying fruit, Doctor Lecter. Lazy psychiatry.”

“By your reaction I feel it may be on a higher branch entirely, but we don’t have to discuss her at all if you like.”

“There’s nothing to discuss, never knew her,” Will replies, temper deliciously rising despite his best intentions to keep it hidden. 

_ Time to push the monster a little.  _

“Tell me Will, did you enjoy your first murder?” Hannibal asks as if he just asked Will what he had for lunch and takes a sip of the wine-blood mix.

Will lets out an angry laugh and responds, “Wow Hannibal, you’re just going right for it aren’t you? I was in the line of duty, it isn’t murder. You know, it’s not very smart to piss off a guy who thinks about killing people for a living.” 

“Semantics. A man is dead because of you. Does it anger you that I think you should feel good after killing Garrett Jacob Hobbs, or is it something else? Killing must feel good to God too, he does it all the time...and are we not created in his image?”

“I didn’t take you as a big fan of God, Dr. Lecter.”

“God’s terrific. He dropped a church roof on 34 of his worshippers in Texas last week as they were singing his praises. Don’t you think that felt good?”

“Killing Garret Jacob Hobbs felt like  _ justice. _ ”

“Do you think Abigail would think it was justified?”

“How dare you!” Will rises from his chair, eyes blazing. “He tried to  _ kill _ her, of course it was justified!”

_ Too far? _

“Will, it’s important we talked about what happened,” Hannibal rises to meet him and gently places his hand on his shoulder.  _ YES. So warm. So alive.  _ “Justified would have been a bullet or two, but you emptied your entire gun into him.”

“You’re damn right I did… but...it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“Of course it wasn’t. You went in to stop a monster and ended up with a surrogate daughter.”

“You see her as a surrogate daughter?”

“She’s been made an orphan. We are her fathers now.”

Will takes a sip of the wine, nods, and sits back down into the chair. “I suppose you’re right. Delicious,” he admits, his tongue creeping out over his bottom lip as he finally looks back over at Hannibal who smiles an enigmatic smile.

The rest of their discussion is much calmer, the two of them discussing the Hobbs case, Abigail’s recovery and their plans to visit, the number of Will’s dogs, Jack Crawford and even the Baltimore symphony. Will seems genuinely shocked that the appointed hour has already passed when Hannibal points out the time. 

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hannibal teases Will. 

“Tolerable,” Will teases back, a genuine smile in return.  _ Radiant. _

“I’m glad to hear that, as Uncle Jack wants us to have at least three sessions. You may want to turn in the evaluation after we’ve completed them.”

Will chuckles at Hannibal’s nickname for his boss. “Just in case I’m not as stable as you hoped?”

“Just in case Jack is paying attention. It’s all just red tape, after all,” Hannibal sniffs as he lets Will back out his patient entrance with a smile and a promise to see him soon. 

***

Will arrives home back in Wolf Trap to a herd of excited canines. He lets them out to run and takes a hot shower, again wincing when he forgets and fills his cut palm with shampoo. He brushes his teeth and falls into bed in his living room (another quirk) and feels exhaustion creep in. 

Falling asleep isn’t an issue for Will, it’s remaining asleep that is the issue, night terrors are unfortunately common for the man, who often wakes up in a sweaty panic. The cases that are his specialty come with the additional baggage of reliving horrible deaths and crime scenes afterwards, his empathy refusing to give him a break from any of it. He has to admit to himself that his conversation with Hannibal helped to center him and calm him somewhat and he smiles to himself thinking of the man. 

His friend? Could Hannibal really be considered a friend? Before he can pick apart this thought any further sleep takes him. 

Having an active imagination, Will’s dreams are always vivid and often terrifying, with him actually living or re-living the things he dreams about. Sometimes he gets lucky and he’ll dream about fishing, being in the middle of a cool stream, his dogs romping playfully nearby, delicious sunlight warming his shoulders… 

This dream isn’t a nightmare or a visit to Will’s happy place, it is something unprecedented. The only thing there that is vaguely recognizable is Hannibal...but they are not in his office having a glass of wine, they are instead wrapped naked around each other in a very large, dark bed.

Dream Will fists the navy blue silk sheets, viewing himself in the mirror at the end of the bed and lets out a languid moan as Dream Hannibal whispers a language that Will doesn’t recognize in his ear, licking the outside shell of it and running a hand through Will’s curls. Dream Hannibal grabs Will’s hair and pulls back, hard enough to bring another moan from him and then affixes his mouth to Will’s long white throat and sucks.

“Yes! Oh yes! So good! Bite me, please, please bite me…” Dream Will unashamedly begs, digging his nails into Hannibal’s arms, hard but not drawing blood.

“In due time,  _ mylimasis, _ for now just feel… feel how amazing we are together…I can make you so powerful… people will beg, dying at your feet just for a chance to glimpse in your cerulean eyes.”

“I don’t want them to die…”

“Oh darling, you don’t have to pretend…  _ yes you do, _ ” Dream Hannibal teases before suddenly impaling Will on his fangs, causing Dream Will’s face to erupt in pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

Will wakes up sweaty with a start, but this time he’s shocked to discover he’s come in his own pants like a teenager.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims to himself as he tries to regulate his breathing. Several of the dogs have come over to provide assistance to their master. “Guys, ugh, I’m fine, really,” he says, swatting a curious nose away as he pads over to the shower to clean himself off. 

Across town Hannibal licks his lips and smiles. 


	4. The Mephistopheles of Los Angeles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal faces the Council. Abigail recovers. Will and Hannibal both deal with a new threat and the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE UPDATED TAGS - First major character death in this chapter - NOT HANNIBAL OR WILL. Things begin to curve way out of canon territory starting this chapter. Buckle up folks! xo

_ Chapter 4:  _ _ The Mephistopheles of Los Angeles -  _

“Don’t know if I can open up

I been opened too much

Double cross glossed over in my pathos

I was fated, faithful, fatal...”

~” The Mephistopheles of Los Angeles” - Marilyn Manson

 

“Good evening, Hannibal,” the stunning, statuesque platinum blonde ice queen standing on his doorstep offers.

“Bedelia. What a lovely surprise,” he lies to her face, knowing she will sense it. “Please come in.” Bedelia slightly inclines her head and glides gracefully with feline grace into Hannibal’s office. “Is your visit today for business, or pleasure?”

“You and I have been friends a long time Hannibal, but today I come mostly with business,” she demures.

“Ah, Council business,” Hannibal infers, pouring himself and Bedelia a glass of wine-blood mixture. She slightly inclines her head in thanks as she accepts the warmed contents in the crystal glass from Hannibal’s cold, veiny hand.

“I see. How can I assist?”

“Your nocturnal activities have been...noticed, Hannibal. There is grave concern of exposure, not of only yourself but as to the Council and vampire safety in general.”

“The Ripper will not be caught.”

“I heard that the FBI has a gifted new profiler who has an aptitude for such things.”

“I have befriended this profiler, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Befriended him like you befriended me?” Bedelia can’t hide her anger any longer. There is too much history between them to pretend this conversation isn't many layered.

“‘Entirely different scenario. We don’t have a physical relationship like you and I had so many years ago, but more of a meeting of the minds. He has great potential. So far he knows nothing of Us.”

“Potential?” Bedelia mirthlessly laughs. “The situation is even further out of control than I thought. Oh Hannibal… once again seduced by the promise of the beast with two backs. I thought you were beyond such banal pleasures of the flesh these days?”

_ So ignorant in her relative youth… pleasures of a meeting of the minds are just as important as with the body, and so rare. _

“Oh darling, I just lost interest in that particular scenario with you… no offense of course,” he whispers next to her face, knowing that if she had the potential to she’d be coloring a beautiful red at his cruelty. “Your loveliness is unparallelled. We did have our fun while it lasted. I don’t regret turning you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  _ You just weren't the  _ _ One. _

Bedelia takes a large gulp of her wine and steels herself for an argument with her Maker. “I am concerned. You must stop the pageantry, or Mason will stop you.” Hannibal realizes her warning isn’t coming from a place of strict altruism and scents the threat underneath.

“I’d like to see him try.”  _ Challenge accepted. _

“There’s no reason for you to create these elaborate murder tableaus for the FBI to puzzle over. Hannibal, he’ll take your precious profiler, there’s only so much Margot and I can do to convince him to leave you be. You know how mad he is.”

“Again, I look forward to him attempting his level best. If there are no further pressing Council needs, I’m afraid I must cut our impromptu visit short, I have another matter I must deal with this evening. You are always welcome, but next time, if you give me a slight notice of your arrival I will gladly prepare an appropriate feast.”

“Of course, you’re busy playing with the profiler I assume, a shiny new toy to break,” Bedelia answers, doing her best to keep a firm mask of neutrality on her face. “Margot sends her regards,” she finishes, rising from her chair and gracefully handing her empty glass back to Hannibal. 

“My best to her as well. Have a lovely evening, Dr. DuMaurier,” the formal dismissal another slightly veiled insult lobbed her direction for good measure. Hannibal does not like being surprised.

***

Hannibal drives Will to the medical facility where Abigail is recovering. Alana has given Will permission to question Abigail with Doctor Lecter present about her father’s activities.  The men approach her room and quietly knock on the door.

“Come in,” a quiet female voice answers.

“Good evening Abigail, I’m Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”

“I remember you. You helped me in the ambulance,” she answers.

“Do you know who I am?” Will gently asks the now-awake Abigail Hobbs, placing a small bouquet of Get Well flowers on her bedside table.

“Yeah, you’re the one that killed my dad,” she spits back, eyes blazing. Will guiltily nods an affirmation and looks at the floor, gutted.

“He saved your life, Abigail,” Hannibal offers, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder. She looks up into his eyes and finds herself nearly mesmerized, nodding slowly in agreement at his words. “If you are feeling up to it, Will here, who works for the FBI, would like to ask you some questions about what you remember.”

“Um, yeah, well I don’t remember a whole lot,” her voice trembles.

_ Lie.  _ Will and Hannibal’s eyes meet and they both know. She’s nearly compelled to admit the truth by Hannibal’s gaze, but she isn’t quite there yet. It won’t be hard for Hannibal to get into her mind and crack it.

“I assure you that you aren’t in any trouble. We understand how difficult this may be to talk about, but unfortunately you’re the only one that might be able to give some insight on your father’s activities,” he answers.

“You think he killed all those girls?”

“We know he did, Abigail,” Will says, a small, sad smile on his face. He can feel her indecision, the desire to protect her father and her secrets battling with the desire to please him and Hannibal. “We’re just glad that you’re safe now.”

“I don’t know about that… all these reporters…”

“Tasteless,” Will spits. “Part of the reason we want to know what happened is so that we can set the record straight, and officially clear your name. Maybe they will leave you alone then.”

“And leave you alone too,” she answers. She’s seen the articles about him on  _ Tattlecrime _ on the tablet Alana bought her. “Maybe I’ll remember more later. Right now I just feel really tired.“

Hannibal slides his business card to her, with his cell phone number written on the back, and Will does the same with his. “Of course. Please call one of us if you remember anything,” Hannibal says, again looking deeply in the troubled young girl’s eyes.  She nods and the men leave her room.

“She’s lying,” Will looks over at Hannibal for confirmation.

“Oh yes.”

“She’s protecting him. But there’s something else that she isn’t telling us.”

“She would make the perfect bait, wouldn’t she?” Hannibal muses.

“That’s Jack’s theory too, but there’s no way she’s involved. No way.”

Both men are quiet on the walk out to Hannibal’s car, the silence hanging heavy between them. They barely make it inside the car and fasten their seatbelts when Will’s cell phone rings.

“Jack… what? Okay, where? We are on our way.” Will looks over at Hannibal. “There’s just been another Ripper Murder, Baltimore Philharmonic.”

Hannibal’s look of surprise is entirely genuine, as he hasn’t killed someone for at least a week. “Well then, we best get to the scene,” he answers, driving them towards a murder tableau that he’s looking forward to watching Will decipher.

***

Hannibal hangs back a bit as the three men walk into the concert hall, Jack and Will speaking quietly about the case, their voices echoing throughout the empty chamber. Right center stage is the crime scene, where what used to be a man is placed straight up in a chair. His vocal cords are cut and strung up to a cello neck that has been shoved down the corpse’s throat. It’s stunning in both its viciousness and creativity. 

Jack clears the rest of the investigators from the room, so that Will will have privacy to unleash his gift in relative privacy.

Will’s eyes drop shut as he clears his mind of all other thoughts. Thick curtains sweep over the corners of his mind, clearing his headspace, allowing for the darkness to come barreling through in waves of heavy, black velvet.

_ Woosh woosh…..woosh woosh. _

His eyes roll rapidly underneath his eyelids as his mind works. Hannibal is breathless as he watches Will’s mind in action. Soon he observes a slight trembling, which builds up to a crescendo before rolling completely through Will’s body. He can’t hold the grimace from his face or stop his hands from making fists so tight his knuckles turn white.

“It’s not the Ripper,” he shakily breathes out, coming back to himself. Hannibal is positively  _ enraptured. _

“What do you mean it’s not the Ripper?” Jack yells. “Look at it! A man has been butchered and played like a giant meat instrument!”

Hannibal hums at the interesting use of the word  _ meat. “ _ The strings seem to be processed in a manner similar to cat gut, which these days is not easily obtained. He tried to open him up to get the best sound,” he says, eyes still on Will.

“Oh they're not guts from cats,” Will chuckles darkly. “I did look at it Jack, I’m telling you it’s not the Ripper… this is… something else, it's… a courtship. Maybe  _ for _ the Ripper, but not by him. It doesn’t have the same level of… art to it. It’s….sloppy, an imitation”. Will paces as he tries to put the images in his head into words.

Hannibal’s cold, dead heart positively  _ soars. Oh Will...darling... yes! How wonderful it is to be seen! _

“As a musician, I must say that I harbor serious doubts that your killer was able to get any sound out of his creation. I would imagine that’s made him very agitated in the aftermath, given the effort put in to his project,” Hannibal adds, his agreement with Will's assessment implied.

Jack pauses for a minute, scarcely believing what he is hearing. “Great. I’m supposed to be catching one serial killer and now I’m hosting the Murderous Bastard Dating Game between  _ two _ of them at the Philharmonic. Brilliant.”

“If I may interrupt again for a moment,” Hannibal asks.

“Of course, Dr. Lecter, please, perhaps you’ve got an idea that actually makes sense,” Jack glares, putting his hands on top of his head in frustration.

_ Rude, Jack. _

Hannibal decides to throw the bloodhounds a bone.

“Oh, I believe what Will is saying fits the current pathology, I don’t disagree. I know it’s riding the line of Doctor-Patient confidentiality, but a patient of mine mentioned a concern about an acquaintance of his last week.  His name is Tobias Budge. I met him briefly when he restrung my harpsichord some time back and he seemed unremarkable, but I did have him import me some cat gut strings from Italy.”

“Seems cruel, even for you, Doctor Lecter,” Will answers disapprovingly.

“Unfortunately, cat gut strings have no equal in quality, so I find myself seduced by their superior tone as well despite their origin. Mr. Budge may not be your killer but he may have some better insight on the materials used in the murder and where else they could be obtained.”

Budge is most definitely the killer, Hannibal can smell him all over the scene. He scented it on purpose, his message to Hannibal is clear, and Will’s brilliant mind picked up on the nuance of it. 

Sending Will and Uncle Jack after him serves a dual purpose: getting rid of the annoyance of his unwanted new admirer while muddying the Ripper investigation further, but it will also allow Will the glory of taking him down.

***

“Mr. Budge,” Hannibal answers, letting himself back into his office, knowing that the other vampire has broken in.

“Good evening, Doctor Lecter. I trust you received my message? Sent some bumbling humans after me… it was so enjoyable killing them, I should thank you for the presents.”

_ WILL!  _ Hannibal’s mask of composure slips as he tastes the truth in Tobias’ words and his eyes flash red, fangs dropping. Budge is covered in blood, and some of it is definitely Will Graham’s. Hannibal’s revenge will be as painful as he can make it in return for taking the one thing that helped break the monotony of his long, lonely existence.

Tobias responds with a fang drop of his own. “It’s a shame that my message seems to have been a bit lost in translation, we could have been good together,” he tuts, bracing for Hannibal’s attack.

The room erupts in a blur of limbs, growls, and grunts, movements far too quick for the human eye to ever deduce what’s happening. Tobias is quick and light on his feet, but Hannibal is always faster. Every brutal blow Tobias throws is blocked by Hannibal, who seems to be almost anticipating every move. The impact of the two men crashing together in fury literally threatens to shake the framed pictures from the walls.

Eventually Tobias’ rage gets the best of him and he finally slips and misses, a mistake slight enough that most could recover… but he dared to go after Hannibal and it seals his fate. Towards the end Tobias realizes he’s about to be bested and as a last ditch effort he digs his claws in the side of Hannibal’s face, causing streams of blood to run down into his eyes. Hannibal reaches blindly back behind the other vampire, grasping the large brass stag statue on an accent table, grabbing it with such force that he snaps one of the antlers off right before he brings it down again and again on Tobias’ face, causing him to crumple to the floor in a bloody heap.

Hannibal pulls back his arms, snarling, wiping the blood out of his eyes. He picks the other vampire off of the floor and drags him up, smashing him again in the mouth to obliterate any trace of his fangs. He then brings the body up to his face to suck him dry, but before he can latch on he hears voices headed up the front sidewalk, and one of them is very familiar. Familiar enough that he instantly drops the dead weight of the other vampire and snaps out of his bloodlust.

_ Will lives! _

He can’t even be irritated that he can’t drink Budge’s delicious rage. The door of his office bursts open and Will steps forward, gun drawn, followed by two other officers.

“Will!” Hannibal lets out an audible sigh of relief as Will looks at the destroyed contents of the room incredulously and makes his was over to where Hannibal stands over the body of his challenger, victorious. “I thought you were dead,” he quietly says, unable to resist touching Will once again, pulling him closer by the side of his cheek in a tender and intimate gesture. He inspects Will quickly with his eyes, noting cuts and bruises, the angriest on his hands and neck where he avoided being strangled.

"I thought  _ you _ were dead,” Will breathes back, pulled back into Hannibal’s hypnotic maroon eyes. Both men are stained with blood. He closes his eyes for a moment and then looks up, agonized. “Um… I don’t know how to say this, but Jack’s didn't make it. Budge stabbed him and strangled him with some wire. He had a whole setup in his basement... Are you hurt?” Will asks. 

“I am fine,” Hannibal assures him, tightening the grip in Will’s hair softly, causing Will to let out another shaky breath. “Please, let me see to your injuries.” Having Jack dead doesn’t affect Hannibal’s life one way or the other, assuming the new head of the BAU is as accessible and easily manipulated. 

“I’m fine too,” Will argues, gingerly touching Hannibal’s cheekbone where one of the cuts on his face is already beginning to heal underneath the blood spatter.

“Please, I insist. Allow me.” Hannibal steers Will back to his private quarters.  He fills up a bowl with some warm water and and gathers up some white towels, then gently places Will’s bruised and battered knuckles in the warm mixture. 

“Now we are both murderers,” Will’s bright blue eyes gaze up at Hannibal’s dark ones, both of their pupils are dilated.

“You and I, we are just alike,” Hannibal answers. “In more ways that one.”

“Any more alike and we may be conjoined,” Will attempts to joke, hissing as Hannibal rubs antibiotic salve on the raw, red marks on Will’s neck where Budge attempted to strangle him.

“You fought valiantly, he was a worthy opponent,” Hannibal purrs,  proud look on his face. 

"I knew he would come for you next, he told me. I couldn’t let him drag you into my fucked up world.” Will seems almost embarrassed at Hannibal’s praise.

Ignoring the profanity, Hannibal answers “I got here all on my own, but I appreciate the company just the same.” He tenderly holds Will’s hand as he bandages it with salve and gauze, nothing more needing to be said out loud between the two men. 

**

“Okay, this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” Beverly Katz calls out to her co-workers in the FBI lab. “I just got the results back from Dr. Sutcliff in neurology at Georgetown. Apparently Budge had some sort of virus that’s in the same family as encephalitis, but it’s a strange mutation. Doc says it’s probably what made our homeboy go all crazy murder on the world.”

Will listens to the test results from Budge’s autopsy report, staring down at the mysterious man, whose face was made into absolute mincemeat by Hannibal. He was so  _ strong _ , no matter what Will threw his way, the man could dodge it… so much faster! The only way he was even able to get away was when he was distracted as he went for Jack. Will realized that Hannibal was his next target and left immediately for his office.

He still can't believe Hannibal was able to fight him off.

Will let Jack bleed out in that house. He left him. Not alone, but he knows he should have stayed by his side, that it was the right thing to do… but all he could think about doing was getting to Hannibal. All he can think about anymore is Hannibal.

His dreams every night are gorgeous, sensual things, dark promises and sweet nothings whispered in darkness. He’s never been sexually attracted to a man before, and he isn’t sure how he feels about having these thoughts about his friend Hannibal.

Friend.

Will thinks back to the other night when he left his mentor and other friend Jack in a dank basement to rush to Hannibal’s side. Hannibal seemed to be as relieved to see him as Will was. He patched him up as they discussed their battles with the dead man in a way that was almost… intimate. He supposes they are now bonded by the experience of almost being killed by the same psychopath, but he had the first dream just  _ before _ everything with Budge happened. 

“Will…..WILL!” Bev raises her voice, snapping him out of his daydream. 

“Uh yeah, Hi, sorry?” he answers sheepishly.

"Ugh, pay attention, mop top! You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Well you look like shit,” she answers honestly. “Look, losing Jack is a nightmare, but we have to work this case to the end. It’s what he would have wanted. He deserves it.”

“I know, I know. I think I just need to get some sleep and I’ll feel better.”

"Why don't you get outta here, kid?"

“Kid?”

“Term of endearment, between friends.”

“We’re friends now?” Bev glares at Will and gives him the middle finger. “Kidding! Of course we’re friends. See you in the morning, I’ll bring the coffee.”

“See? I knew I liked you, “ she teases back, putting a soft fake punch to his left shoulder and winking. 

***

Hannibal has stalled enough. He received a message from the Council that he needed to call on Skype as soon as possible, to discuss the “leak” of the virus to the FBI from Budge’s body. He dials up the number for the Verger Estate in Florence.

“Hannibal! What a pleasant surprise!” a high pitched male voice, over-enthusiastic in it’s madness, grates on Hannibal’s sensitive ears just before a good looking yet disheveled blonde vampire comes on screen. His hair is standing on end in places, as if he’s been pulling on it repeatedly. Gorgeous ice blue eyes wink out through a pair of glasses on his face, obviously worn to blend in with humans, as eyesight is perfect for all humans that are turned Vampire.

“Mason, I trust you are well?”

“Indeed I am! And how are  _ you _ Dr. Lecter? It seems you’ve been a very busy boy,” he seethes threateningly.

“I always find myself taking up new hobbies to amuse myself Mr. Verger, one can never stop learning, after all.”

Mason barks out an insane laugh. “Amusing as they are, you’ve been very naughty… teasing the FBI and all. You know that’s against the rules.”

“Whose rules?”

“THE rules. MY rules, the only one that should matter to you!”

“I’m afraid they don’t matter very much at all to me, dear Mason. I made my own rules. After all, I was alive for centuries before you went and made them.”

“There’s always a been a place for you on the Council, Hannibal.”

“Thank you again for your consideration, but I don’t require your protection, or anyone else’s for that matter.”

“I highly suggest you find a better way to dispose of your snack packages before any more attention is drawn to you. I’d hate to come out there and have to remind you of the rules myself.”

“It is always a pleasure to have you and Margot visit, Mason. How is your sister?”

“As morose as ever, she can’t seem to find any FUN anywhere. It’s sad really. I’ve taken to altruistic pursuits myself.”

“Really,” Hannibal blithely replies, already disinterested in what the madman has been up to.

“Yes, yes. I built a petting zoo on the estate here. I’ve been working on giving back to the community, you see? Florence has always been good to me. I decided I’d invite all the local schools for field trips, teaching the next generation about agriculture.”

“Pigs petting pigs then?”

“Yes, I just  _ knew _ you’d understand,” Mason enthuses. “My father always said it was important to treat your food humanely.”

Hannibal understands all right, Mason’s taste for young children is known throughout the vampire world. For the most part Hannibal could care less, but some sliver of morality of his humanity held over and in all of the years he’s walked the Earth he has never, ever hurt a child on purpose. Anyone under the age of 18 has been off limits, for eating and...otherwise. 

“While it has been a pleasure catching up, my phone call has a larger purpose than simple reminiscing. I wanted to make you aware that I retrieved Budge’s body from the FBI and have disposed of it properly. No more tests.”

“What of the doctor himself, hmm?” 

“He will not be a problem either. I will ensure he’s silent.”

“Very good, very good. As long as you are able to do all of that and stop playing with your food we won’t have a problem.”

“Again, please give my regards to Margot. Have a lovely evening,” Hannibal says, disconnecting the call before he has to listen to further threats from the disgusting creature. 

***

Will arrives for his usual 7:30pm “conversation” at Doctor Lecter’s office. He hesitates knocking at the door… should he knock, or just wait like a patient? Before he can have any further anxiety about the situation, the door opens and Hannibal is standing there in a pristine blue plaid suit with every hair slicked in place.

“Will, please come in,” a slight bow towards the younger man, a beautiful predator.

“Well we sure have a lot to talk about today,” Will laughs nervously, threading a hand through his hair in the endearing nervous habit that Hannibal has grown to like. 

“Excellent. Shall I pour the wine and we can begin?” Will nods and Hannibal goes to retrieve yet another wine bottle that has been spiked with some of his blood. He intends to invade Will’s dreams further, the connection growing stronger with each dose he administers. 

“Thank you,” Will accepts the glass of red wine from Hannibal and takes a sip. “So good,” he demures with a soft smile.

“An excellent vintage. I am glad you are here to help me enjoy. Now. Tell me.”

“Well let’s see. Tobias’ body has disappeared completely, the security system in the lab was somehow compromised, and whoever took him wasn’t caught on tape. It has to be someone who has keycard access or something to the building, of course there are no punches in or out of the lab the time the video went offline.”

“I see,” Hannibal thoughtfully replies, striving to keep a neutral look on his face. The removal went without a hitch. He burned the body shortly thereafter, ensuring there is literally nothing left for them to find. 

“Oh it gets better. The doctor at Georgetown that did the autopsy? Dead. Ripper victim.”

"The Ripper? Could it be a second killer? Tobias may have had an accomplice.”

“Oh no no no, this is the Ripper through and through. It can only be him. The precision involved, and the detail, it almost seemed to be mocking Budge’s cello project.” Will pulls out photos of Hannibal’s latest kill, the doctor sitting in his chair with his throat opened up in a similar manner to the Budge murder, but instead of only vocal cords being removed tongue was removed also. 

_ He should have kept his mouth shut about his lab findings. Hard to talk this way. _

“A similar crime scene,” Hannibal answers, handing the photos back to Will, who hops up in frustration. 

“Only if you don’t scratch the surface. All you have to do is  _ look, _ ” Will is firm in his opinion.

The men discuss the differences in the crime scenes and Hannibal’s heart  _ soars  _ listening to Will discuss his work with a reverence and awe that he hasn’t heard from anyone else before. They really are just alike.  If there was any doubt in his mind that Will is the companion he’s been waiting for, it is now absolutely pulverized. He feels  _ seen. _

Several hours later, both men warm from several glasses of wine, Hannibal feels his phone buzz in his pocket. 

**Mason:**

**_CALL. NOW!!!!!!_ **

Hannibal tucks his phone back into his pocket, annoyed that his latest kill has already made it to the news. He blames Freddie Lounds for this inconvenience, he just has to deal with Mason a bit sooner than later. He bids goodnight to Will and prepares himself for another Skype with Florence, likely to be less pleasant than their earlier conversation. 


	5. I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get violent and torture-y here guys - TW if you're sensitive to that stuff. Please note updated tags.

_Chapter 5: I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies_

 

“I wanna fuck you like a foreign film

And there’s no subtitles to get you through this

And I’m a country you don’t ever ever ever ever ever

Want to visit again.

I want to kill you like they do in the movies

But don’t worry there’s another one just like you in line.”

~”I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies” - Marilyn Manson

 

After ensuring Will makes it safely back to his car, Hannibal heats himself up another glass of blood, steeling himself for another frustrating conversation with the Vampire Council. He dials up the number and is pleased to see Margot’s face on the other end of the line instead of her brother’s.

“Margot, as always you are a vision. What a pleasant surprise,” he honestly tells her, causing the delicate planes of her pale face to erupt in a rare but genuine smile.

“Hannibal, you charmer. I’m glad I was able to reach you before Mason did. He’s out somewhere toying with one of his experiments,” the gorgeous vampire shudders as she says the last word with distaste.

“Still up to his old tricks, hmm?”

“Old and new. Hannibal, I don’t have a lot of time… he’s coming for you. He’s having the plane gassed up, we’re headed your way. I don’t have any other details as to his plans, but you know how he is.”

“It will be a pleasure to see you dearest, however, I can’t say the same about your brother. I appreciate you letting me have as much notice as possible. You do understand that I will be forced to stop him, whatever it takes?”

Margot nods, understanding that by warning Hannibal she’s just signed her own death warrant, if Hannibal is not successful, and her brother’s if he is. She must have full confidence in Hannibal’s ability to bring Mason’s reign of terror over. Hannibal believes Margot would do an excellent job leading the Vampire Council, and lets her know so. She seems surprised and relieved that Hannibal has no designs on that sort of power.  

After a few more short pleasantries the two of them sign off. If Mason is coming for a showdown, then a showdown he will have. Immediately Hannibal puts plans into motion.

***

After receiving permission from Alana, Hannibal and Will travel to the facility where Abigail is recovering to take her out for the afternoon. Hannibal notices the exhaustion in Will’s eyes, and adjusts the car temperature and music to be as cozy as possible. As planned, shortly Will begins to nod off and sleep on the way to the hospital.

About fifteen minutes into his slumber, Hannibal decides to delve into his dreamscape and see what Will’s grim facial expression is reflecting. Immediately he’s plunged into a crime scene that he doesn’t recognize. There are several bodies in various levels of decay lined up in a forest in shallow graves. IV lines are connected to an arm on each corpse in some sort of feeding system that has been strewn up.  There is a macabre beauty in the symmetry.

Dream Will walks up to one of the shallow graves, not reacting to the arrival of Dream Hannibal in his space. He acknowledges him with a nod, and then turns back to the grave site. Dream Hannibal walks up to him and looks down into the grave, where the corpse Garrett Jacob Hobbs looks up at the men with dead eyes and smiles, hissing “I see you.”

Dream Will looks over at Dream Hannibal and says, “I don’t understand why he’s here,” with confusion on his face. “I’m seeing him everywhere. I’m starting to get worried about it.” How interesting that Will is looking to him for assistance and clarity, even in his dreamscape.

“It’s nothing to be too concerned about. Your mind replaced another killer’s victim with with could arguably be considered your victim,” Hannibal assures him.

“I don’t consider Hobbs my victim.”

“What then do you consider him?”

“Dead,” he answers, a cold look on his face.

The scene in the woods dissolves and morphs into Hannibals's office, the two men sitting in their usual chairs opposite each other. Dream Hannibal rises out of his chair and walks over to Dream Will, standing over him to reach out one hand to gently cup his face and force his wild blue eyes up to meet Hannibal’s.

Hannibal _swoons_ at the delicious waves of emotions he tastes there and smiles.

The car stops as the men arrive, and abruptly Will comes back to consciousness, apologizing for dozing off, doing his best to hide his disturbing visions of Hobbs. Hannibal of course assures him it was fine, enjoying insinuating himself as a source of support in Will’s subconscious as well as his waking life. Everything is proceeding as planned.

The weather is crisp but beautiful and the three of them are all in high spirits as they walk around the gardens the facility maintains. Hannibal has on vampire-strength sunscreen, so while being in the sun may tire him a bit, after a good meal he will be no worse for the wear… unlike who will have the misfortune of being eaten in a few hours. He finds his mind wandering back to the man in the grocery store parking lot who decidedly should have picked a different car to open his car door into and then choosing to walk away, pretending it never happened.

_Rude._

Hannibal has brought a picnic basket filled with delicious looking treats from his kitchen. Fresh fruit cheeses, and “Prosciutto” from the rude man and Hannibal’s special wine-blood blend.  Abigail’s eyebrows rise when she sees Hannibal pour three glasses of the wine.

“In Europe where I’m from it’s customary for young adults to have a bit of wine with meals,” he smiles at her.

Will looks to Abigail for her response and can’t help smile himself when her face erupts in a sly smile back at the men. “Well I’ve always wanted to go to Europe,” she answers back.

“Excellent, we will have to take a trip once you are well and all of this unpleasantness is firmly behind us. Have you ever been, Will?” Hannibal asks.

“Um, no, I haven’t… just here and Canada.”

“Well then, I shall particularly enjoy showing you both the sights. Where do you think we should start Abigail?”

“Well it’s totally a cliche,” she starts, ducking her head and sipping her wine, shoving a grape in her mouth afterwards with a pleased hum. Hannibal and Will patiently wait for her to continue. “I’ve always, always wanted to go to Paris.”

“Excellent. Then we should begin there. Visit the normal tourist spots, the Louvre, Arc de Triomphe, Tour Eiffel… I should like to take you out to the lavender fields of Provence and of course the Mediterranean Sea. After France we should go to Italy, there is much I’d like to show you both.”

“Where are you from in Europe?” Abigail asks.

“Lithuania, although its been some time since I’ve been back.”

“Will you take me there too?”

“If you desire, but there’s not much left to show you other than some old castle ruins and the graves of my ancestors.”

“Wait, a castle?” she laughs incredulously, “Are you like a Prince or something?”

“A Count, actually,” Hannibal chuckles, pouring more wine for himself and Will who has been silently watching his verbal exchange with Abigail like a hawk, his protective instincts on alert around the girl.

“No family left?” Will finally speaks.

“It is just myself.”

_I am alone as you are. We all three are alone without each other._

Abigail and Will absolutely glow in each others presence as they continue their lunch, their bond becoming stronger every time they are together. Both of their edges soften when they are around each other and Hannibal enjoys watching their easy banter, knowing that if he weren’t already planning on turning Abigail as well he would not allow their relationship to blossom naturally as it has. Abigail has decided (with Hannibal’s counsel) that Will’s gunning down of her father was an act of justice. Once she and Will were able to put the unfortunate circumstances of their meeting behind them, they naturally were drawn to one another, recognizing a kindred spirit in the other. She will truly be their daughter if Hannibal has his way.

Hannibal recognizes the monsters looming in both Will and Abigail. Together the three of them will truly be a force to be reckoned with. Lost in his daydreams of the streets overflowing with carnage of his own design, Hannibal is too preoccupied to notice a petite blonde-haired form, mostly hidden behind a row of hedges outside the facility, watching from the shade...

Bedelia can hardly believe what she’s witnessing. Hannibal (as fussy as he is) has slathered himself up in industrial strength sunscreen to have a charming Murder Family Date around the hospital grounds with the annoying profiler and a young woman. Discovered through her obsessive research into Graham, she deduces that it has to be the surviving Hobbs girl that has caught Hannibal’s attention, but why?

She knows in her gut Hannibal is going to try to kill her along with Mason if he can accomplish it. As soon as Hannibal became bored with their mental and sexual games she figured that her “everlasting life” came with an expiration date that the monster that made her never included in the flowery speech he gave before he turned her. How naive she was to believe anything that came out of his gorgeous, cruel mouth.

It’s not that Bedelia is afraid to die… she’s not afraid for things to be _over_. What she fears is that she knows when the time comes that Hannibal will make it as painful as possible when he kills her. She knows he will make it _hurt,_ punishment for standing with Mason and the Council.

Her mind sharp as a diamond, analyzing her plans for Hannibal and given Mason’s proclivities she realizes she’s just discovered the perfect bait for them both. Whichever monster survives their showdown, her only shot of guaranteed survival is to align herself with the victor and hope for the best.

Bedelia picks up her phone and calls Mason to share her discovery.

***

Margot, Mason and Bedelia all have arrived at one of the many Verger estates, this one on the outskirts of Baltimore. The three have convened in the large living room to discuss the current situation with Hannibal.

“Cordell! CORDELL! I’m famished. Bring me some light meat….something young and innocent should do the trick.”

“Yes sir, as you wish,” the large man responds. Though he’s not yet been made vampire (Mason enjoys dangling that carrot way too much to have actually turned him yet), he’s definitely got the temperament and cruelty for it. Margot pushes her lips together grimly and closes her eyes, swallowing.

“Oh come now, dear sister mine,” Mason taunts, walking over to her and grasping one perfect curl off of her shoulder and stretching it out in order to watch it spring back into place. “Please tell me you aren’t still getting attached to the cattle again. They are _food_ Margot.”

“Why not let them grow up first? Then there’s more to eat,” she isn’t trying to reason with him, as she knows its pointless, but she still has to say something. She can’t stand his desire to eat children. The only thing she wanted before she was turned was to be able to have a child of her own, and knowing this of course Mason took that from her. He’d take it every day from her if he could, just to collect and drink her precious tears.

Cordell returns, with a young boy about aged 10, dressed in rags, pupils blown in absolute terror.  Mason walks over to him.

“Well hello there little buddy! What’s your name?” Mason taunts. The boy remains silent. He pulls out a large Hershey’s chocolate bar and watches the boy’s hungry eyes light up. “Now now, you have to come sit on Uncle Mason’s lap first to get your treat.”

“I can’t watch this,” Margot rises, looking at Bedelia, hoping to find an ally in the situation. Bedelia says nothing and Margot feels sick to her stomach as she leaves the room.

“Oh Margot,” Mason calls to her retreating back, “We wouldn’t want to leave you out of this very important conversation regarding Hannibal Lecter. You do care about protecting the Council and our interests…?”

“Of course I do,” she lies. All she wants it out of this Hell on earth that her brother has created.

“Give me just a moment and I’ll be back in a jiff!” Mason giggles gleefully, taking the scared boy’s hand behind the large Japanese screen in the corner. Margot tries to get in her own head to avoid the horrible noises from the corner, hearing a final THUD as the boy’s drained corpse falls to the floor. Bedelia’s face betrays nothing as Mason comes out from behind the screen, licking the blood off of his own chin like the monster he is. The white fur he’s wearing now looks as if its been freshly butchered. Margot knows she has no allies in this house any longer.

“Now that I am not so _hangry_ hahahaha - hangry - I love that word, we can get down to business. Bedelia, tell me more about this surprise you discovered today on your reconnaissance,” Mason says, clapping his hands together. “I just _love_ surprises Margot, don’t you?”

She does not.

***

Hannibal’s phone rings just after 3 am the next morning. He is startled to see Will’s number on the caller ID. When he checked on him a couple of hours ago he was fishing with Abigail in the calm of the stream. Perhaps a nightmare managed to sneak in.

“Will, are you well?”

“Abigail’s missing.” Will blurts out without greeting.

“Missing?” Hannibal’s eyebrows pinch with alarm.

“Yeah, the night nurse was making her rounds and her bed was empty, she’s just _gone_ Hannibal. She didn’t even bring her purse,” Will tries to keep the panic out of his voice.

“I’m on my way,” Hannibal says, not even needing to communicate with Will that he’s headed to the hospital.

"There's nothing to see here... but yeah..."

“I’ll be there shortly. Please wait for me.” Hannibal hangs up the phone, eyes flashing. While tempting to get there as quickly as he can, he takes his car human speed to the facility, where he finds Will pacing, pulling wildly at his curls. He’s so beautiful in his anguish, he can only imagine how gorgeous he will be in his relief and happiness when Hannibal retrieves their daughter from Mason’s grubby hands.

If there was any doubt that Mason was involved before he arrived, that evaporates. His human slave, the pitiable Cordell, has sweated his particular brand of stink all over the scene. Hannibal instantly sees this for the trap that it is, his rage threatening to overcome him.

“Will,” Hannibal breathes, putting a comforting hand on the profiler’s shoulder.

“Someone took her.”

“Yes. I will get her back.”

“Being a Count, I know you’re loaded as hell and all, but there hasn’t been a ransom note or anything, why, why would someone do this? Is it some sicko that wants to finish what her father started?”

“Will, do you trust me?” Hannibal implores, looking into Will’s eyes. Will nods, a lump in his throat. “Then you can trust that I will bring her back to us.”

“But how?” Will looks deeply into Hannibal’s maroon eyes and then sees. “Wait, you know where she is? You know who took her!” Will unconsciously grabs for his firearm, ready to ride into battle to save their daughter.

_Oh Will._

“You must trust me. This is something personal, and it’s bigger than the Hobbs case, it’s even bigger than the FBI.”

“Bigger than the FBI? What the hell Hannibal?” Will’s fists are vibrating. Hannibal walks over to him and grabs one of his fists, forcing it open slowly and intertwining his fingers with Will’s. At first Will’s face registers confusion… and then…. Oh.

_OH._

Will’s heartbeat stutters in an all-too-human tell, and then Hannibal’s vampire senses pick up on the delicate musk of the first tendrils of Will’s arousal, not in his subconscious this time, the desire is all too real.

Holding Will’s hand, Hannibal notices that Will’s glasses have slid down the bridge of his nose. Continuing to keep his eyes locked with Will’s, he gently removes the worthless lenses off of his nose and slides them in Will’s front pocket.

"You don’t have to hide from me,” he smiles gently at Will.

Will debates telling him he’s not hiding, but he knows that somehow Hannibal will know the lie. He’s too emotional to think clearly at the moment so he decides to go for the truth.

“I hide from everyone. If you only knew....” his lower lip trembles as he confesses, “If you only knew the things I think about, you’d never want to talk to me again, let alone let Abigail around me.”

“I know you better than you might think, mylimasis.” Will’s eyebrows knit together at the use of the endearment but before he can ask the question, Hannibal has stepped closer, tilted his head, and then pulls him in for a soft, intimate kiss. While the contact wasn’t unexpected (he’s been feeling the electricity between himself and Hannibal for days), Will still finds himself breathless at the first contact and is nearly as still as a statue. Only the soft smack of Hannibal releasing Will’s bottom lip can be heard over Will’s semi-panicked breaths.

“Forgive me, I---” Hannibal begins, not really meaning it, himself this time cut off by Will leaning in to kiss Hannibal back, doing his best to hide the trembles running through his over-excited body.

Hannibal hums as he sucks Will’s bottom lip into his mouth, taking care not to nick him with his fangs. He senses the surrender in Will but doesn’t want to overwhelm his emotions just yet with Abigail’s situation needing to be handled. Their chests have mere millimeters separating them, Hannibal can feel the tempting heat pouring off of Will. Part of him wants to crack his ribs open and eat his warm, beating heart.

“I never feel more myself than when I’m with you,” Will quietly confesses to Hannibal, eyes blazing with unvoiced passions.

“Perhaps I don’t need to be forgiven after all,” Hannibal teases, running a finger down Will’s perfect jaw towards his shoulder blade. “But I do need to beg forgiveness to ask you stay here in case I’m incorrect about Abigail and she comes back here.”

“Absolutely not. I’m coming with. You don’t understand. I can’t stay here, I have to go look for her, I’m responsible for her.”

“Will, please, it’s far too dangerous. I promise I will explain everything when I get back, but the best thing you can do is to stay here. I don’t want to have to worry about protecting two of you at the same time.”

“I can take care of myself,” Will sasses, his temper once again rising, hard heartbeats pumping out more of his mouth-watering scent.

“Of this I have no doubt. What I fear has happened is not something I am ready to have you involved with. Please Will, I beg you.” Hannibal’s eyes bore into Will’s.

Will nods in agreement. Hannibal knows chances are very high he will not obey, that he’s impossible to fully predict, finding it endearing that Will can’t bring himself to lie outright to Hannibal.  Somehow his perfect empathy allows him to be somewhat immune to Hannibal’s vampire influence, the clever, beautiful boy.

“I’ll call you as soon as I have her, to save you some worry. I promise I will bring our daughter back to us,” Hannibal leans in and passionately kisses Will, pouring his feelings through the vessel of his mouth. His tongue traces the seam of Will’s lips, begging for entry. Hannibal is absolutely _shattered_ when they give, when he gives, allowing him inside Will’s body for the first time.

Will tastes of cinnamon and cloves, earth and leaves after a storm in the rain forest  - not a cool, refreshing mist but a hot, _scorching_ cavern that he desperately wants to fall into, cloaked in the heavy velvet of their ardour. Both men gasp for breath as their mouths break for air, the blood rushing heavy to their groins at the same time, causing Will to desperately and unconsciously grind forward into Hannibal. Instead of imagining the heat from cracking his rib cage and eating his heart, Hannibal imagines laying Will down on Abigail’s bed to taste every other part of his body that he can get his tongue on.

Or in.

“Wait...stop...Abigail,” Will gasps, pulling himself back, his erection obvious on the front of his khakis. Hannibal spies a bead of sweat run down his temple and desperately wants to reach out and lick that too.

_Patience._

“Of course, you’re correct, there isn’t the time to do this properly now. I intend to feast upon you for hours, days perhaps, long after you’ve given up begging me to stop…” he runs his hand through Will’s curls, his lip snarling at the words in a mixture of arousal and anger at Mason for touching what is his. “I will return as quickly as I can. Please, Will.” He kisses him once more, in the middle of the forehead and quickly leaves him standing, trembling,  in Abigail’s hospital room.

Will’s mind fires a million miles an hour, quickly running all of the possibilities and probabilities involved with various outcomes of his decision. It takes him less than thirty seconds to grab his jacket and head out the door to try to follow Hannibal.

***

Abigail awakes gradually, it feels like her arms and legs are made of taffy. Taffy encased in concrete, and she’s thirsty… so thirsty…

“Well well well, looks like the Cannibal Princess has finally decided to join us, hmm?” Mason leers over at the slim girl, strapped into a collar and chains like she’s….livestock. Abigail wants to press herself back from the leering man, but forces herself to try to remain calm. Her father taught her well, in an emergency you have to always remain calm… if you lose control you lose the situation….

“Um, I don’t know what you are talking about,” she croaks out, her throat aching.

“Now now, there’s no need for pretense here Miss Hobbs, I assure you that you’ll have zero judgment from me regarding your life choices, dietary or otherwise.”

Abigail feels like she’s going to vomit, a combination of whatever she’s been drugged with and revulsion at the crazed man. Steeling herself, she pulls her face up to get a good look at him, surprised that he’s so… handsome.

“Well Hell-ooooo Miss Hobbs,” Mason purrs. Abigail blushes, hating her body’s traitorous reaction to the man. “You have such lovely skin.”

“Thank you. Um, can I get some water? Please?” she asks.

“Yes, yes in a moment. First I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about your friends at the hospital today.”

“Um, okay? What about?”

“Which one of them do you love the most?”

“What?”

“Your daddies, your murder daddies. Do you love the one that tried to keep you human by killing your father, or do you love the one that loves the monster more?” The sadistic man tilts his head at her, wide blue eyes boring into hers.

Her mind races and she stutters nonsense, overwhelmed with anxiety.

“Oh I’m bored of this game,” he sighs. “If you won’t tell me I’m afraid that I’ll just have to take the answers myself,” he shakes his head and grabs Abigail roughly by the bicep, pulling her closer, chains clanking together. Before she can begin to beg Mason’s fangs are in her neck. It’s possible to make a bite pleasurable, orgasmic even, but it’s entirely up to the vampire to release the pleasure pheromones or not.

Mason does not.

“Oh, how sweet, it’s the pretty human that you love the best. I’ll enjoy torturing you together in front of the other one. Dr. Lecter, he’s like _me_ you know. I bet you didn’t know.” Mason laughs hysterically as she loses her mask, her eyes widening in terror.

“Our guests of honor have arrived right on time Mr. Verger,” Cordell tells him, arriving at his side.

“Excellent. Will you wheel in my toolbox please? Let’s set Miss Hobbs up over there by the fire pit.”

All Abigail can do as her body begins to shut down in a state of shock and blood loss is scream...and scream...

***

Hannibal sighs to himself, hearing and smelling Will trailing behind him through the woods to the Verger Estate. He had hoped that Will would listen and not follow him here, as he knows now there’s no way to ease Will into vampire life.

With him here things are bound to get messy, especially with Bedelia involved.

Hannibal hears Abigail scream in pain and decides that she has to be his immediate priority. He runs the rest of the way, scarcely a blur to the naked human eye. The estate grounds are huge and he knows that the guards (human and vampire, but mainly vampire) will be on him soon. He removes his coat and cracks his neck, preparing for a fight. As he rounds the first corner inside, snarling at the first three guards he meets, he feels a sharp tug of alarm on the bloodbond with Will - _something is wrong_. He is alive and not seriously harmed, but he’s in distress...and Hannibal is facing down dozens of guards.

Frustrated, he has no other option but to begin to mow down the guards barreling down upon him like an undead army. He allows his rage at whatever has befallen his mate to roll through him, his body a precisely cut machine, its elegant viciousness reducing bodies to piles of throbbing flesh, nothing more than meat. His fangs drop in a near bloodlust as he takes a deep breath and surveys the carnage surrounding him. There’s only silence now, not even a muffled groan to be heard.

The house quiet, he walks back outside to see if he can hear where Will has been taken. He scents him on the air with a nose better than any bloodhound on earth and heads towards the livestock area of the estate. The smell of Abigail’s blood wafts his way through the breeze. Hannibal growls, his eyes blood red as he stalks over towards the big barn to retrieve his family.

 


	6. User Friendly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal comes to help Will and Abigail. Alana and Margot meet. Not everyone survives this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second Minor Character Death - don't worry, you won't be sad about this one. Actually a third too. Yay murder.
> 
> This chapter fought me and fought me, so I give up and am posting it even though it's not as long as I'd like.

_ Chapter 6: User Friendly _

“Use me when you want to come

I’ve bled just to have it touched

When I’m in you I want to die...

I’m not in love, but I’m gonna fuck you

‘Til somebody better comes along…”

~”User Friendly” - Marilyn Manson

 

“Mister Graham, it is lovely to finally meet you,” Mason leers down at Will, who is strapped to a rack next to Abigail. He’s trying to remain calm for a number of reasons, but his priority is trying to keep Abigail  from completely panicking in her weakened state. It may be the last gift he can give her, but at least he can be with her at the end. 

“I can’t say likewise, if it’s just the same,” Will sasses, allowing himself to be pulled up by his curls by Cordell’s meaty hand. He manages to avoid wincing, defiantly looking back into Mason’s icy blue stare and thinking about how he will react if Cordell allows any part of his body anywhere near his teeth.

“Will… Will… please… he’s a...va...va….” Abigail can’t quite get the word she’s looking for out due to her terror.

“Oh how adorable is he, Cordell? This little puppy has some bite to him! I wonder if you’d have as much to say after I chew out your tongue?” he counters, allowing his fangs to drop in front of Will for the first time. Will can’t hold back a gasp at the grotesque display.

“Ahh Mr. Graham, I see you’ve decided to finally pay attention!” Mason guffaws and claps his gloved hands together like a demented child. Will then notices the puncture marks on Abigail’s neck and tries desperately to free himself from his confines again.

“You monster! What the fuck did you do to her? Don’t you fucking TOUCH her!” Will screams and thrashes in fury, watching Mason run one gloved finger down her pale arm as she shivers in fright. Mason’s smile widens as he sucks up all of that fear, pain, panic, anger… their emotions are  _ delicious. _

“Cordell… the brand please. You see Mr. Graham, I asked your daughter here about you and your boyfriend Dr. Lecter… although, boyfriend seems so quaint… but you haven’t figured it all out have you? He’s like me, see?” He comes nearly nose to nose with Will, showing him his fangs to communicate his message effectively. “Turns out you’re nothing but a snack for him after he’s done toying with the two of you. The little one though, she’s loyal. Turns out you’re her favorite Daddy, isn’t that special? Since she picked you, it’s only fitting that I mark you as being from the same line. We do that for all of our pigs. Helps them feel important - HA!” He grabs the poker with the Verger logo on the end and shoves it into the fire pit to heat.

Abigail’s frightened sobs increase in intensity as Will pulls violently again on his rope bindings, scraping his wrists in the process. This does not go unnoticed by Mason, who lifts his nose in the air and sniffs like he’s smelling delicate cherry blossoms in spring weather instead of the sharp stench of filth, dirt, fire and blood. “My, you do smell delicious, I finally see why Hannibal may be putting all his effort towards you after all. Ha! Well, I think we should start with Miss Hobbs, we wouldn’t want her to get bored waiting for the real fun to begin.” He quickly scoops up the piece of metal out of the hot coals and takes two steps towards Abigail, humiliatingly tearing the back of her shirt low enough to see her mid back and then sticks the hot metal to her skin.

Immediately her choked sobbing gives way to agonized wailing as the sickly sweet smell of burned flesh fills the room. Will completely loses any semblance of control he had and erupts, cursing for all he’s worth, “I swear to God I’ll kill you for this, you motherfucker, and if you get me first Hannibal will finish the job. You will pay for this!”

“So much faith you have in your guardian vampire!” Mason cackles, dropping the hot metal back in the fire to get it ready for Will’s turn. “Where is he then, hmmm? Let me guess. You think you’re so special because you have this connection you’ve never had. He knows you better than you know yourself...blah blah. And the dreams, right? HA! He’s just been playing with his  _ food. _ ” He cruelly cackles at the flash of questioning that comes over Will’s face. “You’re all the same. You humans are nothing, less than nothing, and yet you think you are the most important creature on earth. So easy to seduce! Such egotism! And coming from me, well that’s a lot, really...just ask my sister - ha! Where is Margot anyway?”

THWACK!

Mason’s taunts are interrupted as an axe flies through the air and impales Cordell right in the middle of his eyes on his forehead, splitting his head wide open like an overripe melon in a grotesque display of violence. Abigail begins sobbing again and Mason whirls around to spy Hannibal perched up on an upper platform in the barn. He’s covered in blood, but very little of it is his, all his wounds from fighting the guards have knit together and he’s once again whole and beyond livid. His eyes are blood red and his fangs have completely dropped, vibrating from the concentration it takes to hold himself still for a moment before he launches himself across the barn at Mason. There is very little humanity to him in his current state, and Will and Abigail can’t help but feel some fear at his appearance, even if it is to aid them. He’s truly terrifying in his rage.

“Well that’s a neat trick!” Mason casually shrugs, stepping over Cordell’s crumpled, oozing corpse on the ground and turns to reach the branding iron out of the coals again. He twists and grabs the iron, but is caught by Hannibal’s lightning fast reflexes as he swings it back towards Will.  Hannibal’s arm stretches out to protect Will’s exposed back and he grabs and bends the piece of metal like it’s an elastic band and tosses it on top of Cordell’s body. He then grabs Mason by the throat and raises him over his head, his huge fangs dripping menacingly with saliva, dark eyes blazing up at him. 

“Will is right… I am going to make you pay for touching what belongs to me. Even Margot is sick of you, you are nothing but a burden to your own sister. Then of course, there is the matter of my dear sister that you have yet to atone for…”

“Mis---Misch…” Mason begins, but Hannibal just squeezes his throat closer, cutting off all circulation.

“Do not  _ ever _ say her name, you are not  _ worthy _ ! If it weren’t for the fact that Abigail requires immediate medical attention, I assure you I’d spend days making sure your death is as painful as possible. Alas, since I am out of time, I guess I am forced to show you some form of  _ mercy. _ ” Hannibal hisses out the last word as he drags the younger vampire’s pale throat to his mouth and sinks his huge fangs in, moaning at the power that quickly rushes his body as he drinks deep.

Hannibal realizes that he’s choosing his daughter’s life over the burning revenge that has been keeping him going for as long as he can remember, but he would do anything for Will, even sacrifice the one thing he’s burned for for centuries. He briefly thinks of one word as he chooses this...

_ Love. _

Will has managed to free one arm from his bonds and is quickly trying to untie his other limbs while keeping one eye on the horror unfolding in front of him. He simply can’t envision that the bloodthirsty demon sucking Mason dry is the same man that kissed him passionately hours before. He feels a level of nausea and disgust at himself for being so blind. None of this seems real, and he senses himself disassociating and going into shock as he manages to free his last ankle from the ropes holding him back. He takes two steps to Abigail, who is now unresponsive, and begins working on her bindings immediately as well. 

“Abi, hold on baby girl, you’re doing great,” he encourages her as best he can by continuing to speak to her, trying his best to block out the horrible wet, sucking noises in the room as he finally frees her to fall limp and deathly pale in his arms.

“Hannibal!” his urgent call breaks through Hannibal’s blood lust and he drops the rest of Mason’s corpse to the ground on top of Cordell without hesitation and stalks over to where Will is cradling Abigail. He reaches out for her and Will stares at the blood dripping down his chin and chest. “Mylimasis, we will discuss this all later. I will answer all of your questions, but for now, please let me save our daughter.”

Will hesitates for a few seconds and then nods quietly, swallowing the boulder of fear stuck in his throat. Even if Hannibal kills him, the only way that Abigail can be saved now is with medical attention, and he’s a doctor, after all. She’s as good as dead if he doesn’t let him have her.  “What will you do to her?” he asks.

“Whatever it takes to save her.”

“Will it make her a… uh, like you?”

“I would prefer to make that her choice, but there is no other option, it is that or she will die.” Will nods sadly  again as an answer, pale and trembling with a parent’s hopeful vulnerability the only thing keeping him remotely sane at the moment.

“Try,” Will pleads. “Please Hannibal.” All Will can think to do is beg for him to save her. Whatever sort of monster that changing her makes her, he will love her just the same. He just need to figure out now if he can feel the same way about Hannibal after seeing him unleash the beast inside. It doesn’t escape him that the ultimate irony would be if Hannibal lost his family while he was trying to save them.

He’s certain it hasn’t escaped Hannibal’s thoughts either. 

Hannibal quickly leads back Will to the main house, Abigail still white and limp in his arms. Will’s injuries seem superficial, and he only has a slight limp. Margot rushes up to them when the enter. “Oh God, What did he do?” she asks, tears in her eyes. 

“She will be his last victim. He can’t hurt anyone any longer,” Hannibal assures her. A pink tear falls down her pale cheek. “Come, you need privacy,” she answers, tugging on Hannibal’s arm and Will follows.

“There’s no way in hell she’s getting out of my sight again,” Will warns them both and Hannibal nods.

“I’ll dress your wounds while he takes care of Abigail,” Margot murmurs, taking Will gently by the elbow into a large, dark guest room. Hannibal lays Abigail down gently on the mattress, running a hand over her forehead in a tender manner. Will relaxes enough at this to allow himself to be led into the adjoining bathroom where Margot takes out first aid materials and starts cleaning him up.

“He really does care about you both, you know. I’ve never seen him like this,” she murmurs.

“So you’re one of them then,” Will tries to keep his distaste out of his tone but fails.

“One of whom? Vampire? Yes, Mason made me a long time ago.”

“How long?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“So Hannibal is that old too.”

“That’s his story to tell, not mine, but you should definitely allow him to tell it,” she gently prompts Will.

“I’m not so sure I should.”

“Ultimately only you can make that decision. But I will tell you in all the time I have known Hannibal, he has never been as taken with anyone as he has been you.” After tending to the rest of Will’s wounds, Margot gently leads Will back out to the armchairs in front of the fire in the guest bedroom, where he can observe Hannibal and Abigail resting near each other.

“Making another takes a lot of energy,” Margot whispers. “They will likely sleep through the rest of the evening and day, rising tomorrow. They need to be near each other. There’s nothing for us to do now but wait. Come, you must be hungry. Is there someone I can call for you? I don’t think you’re in a condition to drive, and you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you wish.”

“Um, yeah, I could use some clean clothes and a shower. No offense but I don’t feel like wearing anything from your brother. I’ll call my friend Alana and have her bring me a change of clothes and check on my dogs.”

“Excellent,” she smiles gently at Will, placing a kind hand on his shoulder. “Today has been very traumatic for you. I’m so very sorry that your first experience with our kind was so terrible. I promise we aren’t all like Mason.”

“I believe you. The streets would be overflowing with carnage if vampires were all as unrestrained as he was. How many vampires are there?”

“Mmm,” she demures. “Not as many as you would think, nor as few, likely.”

“Hundreds? Thousands?”

“Thousands,” she kindly answers. “Now, let’s go call your friend and get you cleaned up.”

***

Meanwhile, in a different wing on the Verger Estate, Bedelia DuMaurier is hurriedly packing a suitcase, a cell phone pressed to her ear, barking orders as she urgently attempts to book a charter plane to Florence, Italy. After witnessing Hannibal swat Mason down like nothing more than an annoying housefly, she decides to make herself scarce. She’s knows she’s likely only buying some time, but perhaps she can convince Margot and the other remaining council members to keep the source of Mason’s intelligence about Abigail (and therefore Hannibal’s wrath) under wraps. It’s the only chance she has left to survive him.

***

After caring for Will’s dogs, Alana arrives at the Verger estate carrying a bag of Will’s personal items and a worried scowl on her face. Before she can make it to the top of the front stairs, she’s surprised to see Margot’s gorgeous feline features grace the doorstep.

“Hi, I’m Alana, is this the right entrance?”

“You can enter wherever you like,” Margot slyly answers, her pleased eyes raking Alana up and down and up again, meeting her baby blues with a soft head tilt. “I’m Margot, welcome to Verger Farms.”

“Thank you,” Alana smiles back, an appealing blush on the apples of her cheeks. She’s positively radiant under the other woman’s attention, smiling when Margot does not move out of the doorway, forcing their bodies to briefly brush against each other as Alana maneuvers Will’s duffle bag inside. Margot’s heels click on the marble in the entryway as she leads Alana towards a large winding staircase leading upstairs. Alana can’t help but marvel at the lovely view in front of her.

“What exactly has Will told you about what happened here today?”

“Not a lot, actually. But I have known Will a long time and know that it has to be something serious for him not to go home to his dogs tonight.”

“Yes, but I assure you he’s just fine. Having you here will be a big help. He’s been through quite a bit of trauma today,” Margot finishes.  Alana doesn’t answer, chewing on her lip as she worries about her friend. They arrive to the guest suite where Will is, and upon seeing Will’s bloodied form Alana rushes over to him like a mother hen to inspect him. 

“Will! Oh my God! What in the world--Oh my God!”

“I’m fine, fine, honest Alana, thank you for coming, and thanks for taking care of the dogs, I --”

“Of course! Oh Will, what in the world happened?”

“Honestly I don’t even know where to begin.” He looks over at Margot for help. She looks back, then looks back at Alana, shrugs and drops fang. As expected, Alana lets out a surprised gasp, but manages not to scream.

“Are those…”

“Fangs, yes… turns out that the monsters I hunt aren’t the only things that go bump in the night,” he answers. 

“We don’t all have to wait for the night,” she purrs at Alana, who swallows with wide eyes, transfixed at the beautiful vampire in front of her. “Obviously, this information must be held in the  _ strictest _ of consequences,” Margot warns.

“Oh! Yeah! Of course….wow… so vampires are real? You drink blood to live?”

“Yes, on both.”

Alana’s eyes meet Will’s, disbelieving. “Well I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”

“Well kids, it seems we have a lot to talk about,” Margot begins, sliding into a chair across from the both of them, preparing herself for their barrage of questions. 

***

Hours later, Will and Alana can hardly keep their eyes open. Alana has agreed to keep the day’s events a secret for now, understanding the complexity of the situation and being assured by Will that everything is going to work out. Will excuses himself from the fire and heads down the hall to the guest room where his things have been deposited. On the way, he stops and pauses outside the door where he knows Hannibal and Abigail are sequestered inside. 

Hannibal’s strength has regained enough that he feels comfortable leaving Abigail for a brief moment, feeling Will standing outside their door. He feels the confusion and worry pouring off of him and hopes to ease his mind a bit. Will is not expecting the door to open and jumps when it swings open. Hannibal senses his fear and hesitation, but Will’s eyes have the same softness they did just before they kissed prior to when everything went to hell. 

“Hannibal. How is she?” he breathes out, coming closer despite the primal fear in his gut telling him to run away from the predator before him.

“Our daughter will live and thrive,” he promises, kicking his chin up proudly.

“Thank you,” Will answers and Hannibal gives a firm nod. Sensing his hesitation, Hannibal says, “I must get back to her, help to keep her strong. We can talk more in the morning.” Hannibal senses that Will’s feelings are torn about him at the moment, and hopes that the confusion is due to all of the chaos Mason’s antics brought. It’s important that he give Will the space he needs to become used to the reality of their current situation. It’s Will’s turn to nod in agreement. “Goodnight, Hannibal.”

“Goodnight, Will.” Hannibal watches Will go down the hallway to his room and begins thinking about how to clean up the mess in the barn. He may have been denied his planned torture of Mason, but he’s certain that he will be able to create a tableau as the Chesapeake Ripper that will not only announce Mason’s death to the rest of the council, but serve as a warning.

For those that have betrayed those that Hannibal loves? There will be no mercy.

It is time for Will to know him, see him. The Ripper is the final piece of the puzzle to be revealed. If Will cannot not accept him and their daughter for the glorious creatures that they are, then he can be sacrificed with all the rest of the sheep.

***

6:38 am the next morning Will wakes to a frantic knock on his bedroom door. He leaps out of bed and rushes over to see a slightly disheveled Alana shove her cell phone in his face. 

“It’s the office, says it’s urgent.”

Will grits his teeth and accepts the phone from her, barking out a stern, “Graham.”

“Graham, its Purnell. Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours! I’ve got a fresh Ripper scene!”

Will’s blood runs cold. “The Ripper? You’re sure? He just finished his sounder of--”

“I know what he just finished, but there’s no way it’s not this son of a bitch. I’m at the B & O Railroad Museum in Pigtown. Get here NOW.”  _ Click _ .

_ Pigtown _ . 

Will’s mind begins grinding as he hands the phone back to Alana with a grim look on his face. “Another murder. I have to go. Please tell everyone I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can I please borrow your car?” Alana nods, blue eyes wide, and pads quietly back down the hallway.  

Will arrives to the Museum in record time, parking near the group of cop cars that surround the perimeters. Upon entering the large open atrium of the museum his eyes are drawn skyward to the presentation that the Ripper left for him.

_ Pigtown. _

The man, or what used to be a man, has been completely flayed. His muscles, tendons, ligaments are all visible, but somewhat pale in color, leaving the corpse look like some odd sort of meat marionette. He’s strung up very obviously so that you can see that in order to move his limbs, someone would have to pull on the strings. 

The savagery of the crime is matched only by the elegant beauty of the composition, the deliberate posing of the corpse’s body in an almost playful manner… it’s really a fascinating sight to see, Will has to admit to himself… until he sees that the Verger logo, bent on the end of a branding iron, is wrapped around the corpse’s neck. 

Hannibal has left him his prized pig. He’d almost laugh at the irony except for that he now has to face the fact that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper. 

...and he has no idea how he feels about that or anything else at all anymore. 


	7. Pretty As A Swastika

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will makes an important decision. Hannibal prepares to go to Florence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no beta. Mistakes are mine. Have some smut, darlings.

_ Chapter 7:  Pretty As A Swastika _

“I want to smash into your face, like a plane

And drown in between your legs

Take you down, down from the inside

Take you down, down from the inside

I’d die for your sins

If you don’t kill me while I’m trying, baby...”

                      ~”Pretty Like A Swastika” - Marilyn Manson

Will drives back to the Verger Estate in Alana’s car. He is alternately trying to rush there and wanting to avoid the conversation he knows he and Hannibal must have. He pulls back up in front of the house and enters the entryway, making his way towards the muted voices he hears down the hallway in one of the sitting rooms. He braces himself and comes back to the room where Alana, Margot and he were talking last night and locks eyes with Hannibal. 

“Hello Will.”

“Hi,” he lets out a big sigh and runs his hand through the curls on top of his head, thrumming with nervous energy. Abigail shoots out of her chair like a rocket and rushes over to Will, tackling him with more strength than she realizes she has and almost knocks him over.  “Oof! Whoa kiddo! Take it easy, okay?” he teases, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head as she clings to him, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know how he took me, and--”

“Shh, shh, honey it’s okay, everything is okay, alright?” She looks up at him, eyes tinged pink with tears and nods, her bottom lip trembling. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, how are you? Oh god, I thought he was going to kill you…”

“Nope, no way kid. You’re stuck with me.”

“And you’re stuck with me… if you still will have me now that--” Abigail’s voice cuts off with a pained cry.

“Of course honey, I love you, I always want you, we’re family now,” Will soothes her as she sobs into his chest. Will looks over at Hannibal over the top of her head and Hannibal sadly smiles in return. 

“All of us are family now, Abigail,” Hannibal adds, looking deeply into Will’s eyes. Will nods in response, gently pulling away from Abigail and taking her hand to lead her over near the fire again. He looks over at her and smiles, gives her hand a squeeze as he sits and turns to face Hannibal. 

“I don’t know what to say right now. I don’t even really know what I am feeling right now,” Will hedges. Hannibal can taste the truth to his words, the confusion and fear warring inside of him. He is hopeful that there’s a distinct lack of anger and disgust this morning, already a huge improvement over the chaotic emotions brought on by the events of the past 24 hours. “Abigail, can you please go fetch me something to drink? Maybe something to eat? I’ll discuss work with Hannibal while you’re gone.”

“Oh! Of course! Um, a sandwich? I don’t really know how to cook, or…”

“Perfect. Thank you honey.” Will’s eyes crinkle at the genuine flash of joy brought to Abi’s face by the opportunity to do something useful for him. It warms his heart. She trots of towards the kitchen and Will watches her lithe frame retreat and slides his cerulean eyes back to Hannibal. “So you’re the Ripper.”

Hannibal blinks. “Yes.”

“You picked a hell of a time to reveal that to me.”

“I decided it was time for you to see me, know me.”

“I see you.”

“Do you?” Hannibal tilts his head and raises a pale eyebrow.

“Finally.” Will swallows the boulder in his throat.  “So I understand the eating them part now, I mean, might as well if you’re sucking them dry them to live anyway. But why all of the theatre?” 

“I was curious what would happen.”

Will looks over at Hannibal, an incredulous look upon his face and a beat or two passes and then he begins howling with genuine laughter. “You are the most pompous….arrogant...pain in the ass…” he spouts, until his laughter interferes with his ability to not just talk but breathe and he looks up at Hannibal, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. His hard won reward? Hannibal smiles. A genuine goddamn smile breaks the smooth planes of his alpine features as he looks back at his beloved’s reaction to his honesty.  

Abigail walks back into the room with a plate and a glass of lemonade for Will. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, accepting both from her cold pale hands. 

“I hope it’s okay, I didn’t know what you liked,” she stammers nervously. He takes a big bite and makes a pleased hum. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he answers and Abi provides a brilliant grin in response. He looks over at Hannibal. “We have many things to discuss. I’ve handled the FBI for now, but obviously this situation is bigger than just the FBI,” Will begins.

“Yes,” Hannibal sighs. “I’d hoped to spare you the Council drama but it seems that I’ve dragged you right into my world as well. I have to go to Florence and tie up some loose ends.”

“Okay. Abigail, how do you feel about coming to stay with me for a while? I’m sure Alana will sign you into my care, knowing your new biology needs to be taken into consideration now."

“Really? You’ll let me stay with you? Oh Will!” She rushes him and wraps her pale freckled arms around his neck. 

“Excellent plan,” Hannibal agrees. “Are you planning on taking some time off from the FBI?”

“Yes, actually. Perhaps indefinitely.” Hannibal can’t keep the shock from his face as Will continues. “With Jack gone, and now that I am not going to have to chase the Ripper anymore, there’s no reason for me to stay and many to quit. I’d rather begin doing something I actually enjoy… fix boat motors or something, I don’t know.”

“It’s not because of me is it?” Abigail asks, worried.

“Not just because of you, no. It’s not good for me. I’m sick of the stress, the nightmares…” Will continues. 

Hannibal nods in agreement and turns to Abigail. “Darling, would you mind going to help Margot for a bit? I know she was looking for someone to help with the horses and I need to discuss a few things with Will before I leave for Italy.”

“Of course!” Abigail hops up, kisses both men on the cheek, and bounces out of the room, leaving only her delicate scent and the soft crackle of the fireplace in her wake. 

“I’m sure you have many questions. I’m prepared to answer all of them,” Hannibal tells Will, taking his hand in his own. Due to the fire there’s only a minimal temperature difference between them, but it’s still noticeable now that WIll knows what he’s looking for.

“So how old are you?”

“In human years? I believe I’m around 50. We aren’t immortal but age much slower. I was in my twenties when I was turned. In vampire years, I was turned around the time when the first Pharaohs were emerging in the fertile Nile Valley.”

Will lets how old Hannibal is really sink in before asking: “Is Abigail the first vampire you have made?”

“No. She is the third. The first was my sister, Mischa. I turned her shortly after I was turned and discovered how to make a fledgling.”

“Who was your second?”

“A mistake. A mistake that will shortly be remedied.”

“Is that why you are going to Florence?”

“Yes, mylimasis.”

“Are you going to kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Will it pain you to kill your offspring?” Will wonders.

“Yes, a physical discomfort, but she betrayed me and set Mason’s men upon you and Abigail.”

“Can you only kill her once?” Will asks, eyes flashing.

“Unfortunately,” Hannibal chuckles, proud of his mate’s vicious streak. 

“What happens when she dies?”

“I take her power back into myself.”

“Is there a limit on the number vampires you can make?”

“No, but each one made takes a part of my power and weakens me temporarily.”

“So creating Abi weakened you?”

“Yes, but absorbing Mason’s blood helped offset the issue.”

“So, in theory, if you were to make another, having eaten another beforehand would be the way to go…” Will sits silently, thinking. “She tried to kill us all. Her veins are full of your blood, it’s only fitting that you take it back… that blood belongs to me. Hannibal, I’m tired of being alone. I want you to turn me.”

Hannibal’s cold dead heart  _ sings. _

“Darling, I thought you’d never ask,” he leans over towards Will, gingerly turning his head with one pale finger to passionately capture his lips with his own. 

Will’s mouth is scorching, an inferno of heat and lust, his tongue snaking around Hannibal’s cool one as they both let out a long moan. Will grabs Hannibal by his lapels, smashing their lips together until their teeth clack. There is nothing gentle about this meeting of lips, its a claiming of the basest kind. Hannibal’s overwhelmed with the hot sweetness of his mate’s mouth and pulls back, trembling in efforts to remain in control. 

“Yes, her blood belongs to you, all of my blood belongs to you, whenever and however you wish. I wish that I had the time to change you now, but I’m afraid that if I weaken myself and take the time to come back to full strength our little bird will fly away before I have a chance to snatch her up. I’d rather finish this sooner than later so that we can move on together, never having to look over our shoulders.”

“I understand,” Will breathes, his bright blue eyes locked on Hannibal’s dark ones, their chests still touching. “I’ll protect our daughter with my life until you return to us.”

“In the meantime, consuming a small amount of my blood will heal any residual damage from your ordeal as well as make you stronger temporarily. It also will allow me to stay in close contact with you as well. Will you accept it?” Both men realize that this decision has to do with more than just blood. 

“Yes Hannibal, now and forever I will accept it,” Will breathes his vow to his mate. 

Hannibal’s eyes close with rapture and he smiles. “Come mylimasis,” he asks, hand outstretched. Will accepts it and is pulled up so that his body is flush against Hannibal’s cooler one. He shivers from a combination of arousal and the slight temperature difference as Hannibal gently tugs him down the hall to the bedroom he has been using.

The room itself, like everything else on the Verger estate, is extravagant in both its appearance and comfort. The bedroom is made up completely of ivory and golds, with rich brocade and velvet that begs one to reach out and touch. There is another fireplace, with another fire going, adding to the womb-like intimacy of the space. 

“We have the option when we take blood to make it pleasurable,” Hannibal purrs at Will, running a pale finger down the side of his neck, watching the man tremble at the slightest touch. He’s touch starved and vibrating with need. “Darling, may I taste you?”

“Yes, oh God yes,” Will answers desperately, eyes flashing as he rises upon his toes to drag Hannibal down for another kiss. Hannibal hums as he tangles his tongue back around Will’s, slowly backing them back towards the bed. Eventually as they kiss, Will’s knees hit the back of the giant bed and he stops in his tracks, Hannibal’s hands reaching inside his shirt after working several of the buttons open.

“Fuck, oh god, Hannibal, what are you  _ doing _ to me?” he howls, trying not to grind his erection into Hannibal but failing.

“Shh mylimasis, there’s chemicals in our saliva that makes it pleasurable to allow us to feed or lie with us.” Hannibal takes a small step forward, allowing Will to feel that he isn’t the only one incredibly aroused by their close contact. 

Will’s eyes roll back in his head as Hannibal’s tongue runs it’s way down his jawline to his throat and then circle’s his adam’s apple as he’s pushed back onto the plush bedding by strong, cold hands. “Oh God,” he chants…

“MMM, not God, but close to it darling. I can hardly wait until you’ve transformed and the three of us will be an absolute force to be reckoned with, we will be unstoppable….” Hannibal continues to uncover Will’s chest, skillful fingers opening his shirt, exposing him fully to Hannibal’s gleaming black eyes. 

“Beautiful,” he breathes before reaching over and taking one of Will’s flat tan nipples into his mouth. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Will curses in response, causing Hannibal to chuckle darkly against him as he repeats his action to Will's other nipple. 

“You did say I could taste you... I hope that was an open invitation?”

“Yes, oh God yes, anything….”

Hannibal smiles up at Will and then continues his descent downward with his fingers working on Will’s belt and pants, leaving them on the floor as his mouth continues to nibble, suck and tease his way down Will’s body. Kissing his way across Will’s Adonis belt, he hooks his long white fingers into the waistband of Will’s boxers, looking up for permission to continue. Will bites his lower lip and nods, so Hannibal gently lowers the elastic like he’s unwrapping the most fragile, valuable treasure on earth. 

Will’s eyes close again at the hinges upon feeling himself completely exposed to Hannibal's hungry gaze. Some tiny part of his hind brain wants to run out of the room screaming at the threat of a larger predator. It has to be the most basic fight or flight that is installed in all humans that he’s fighting against. He takes a deep breath and looks again at Hannibal, who has stopped for a moment after removing Will’s boxers.

“You are absolutely exquisite,” Hannibal praises, bringing his cool red lips back down to Will’s hip, causing him to shudder from pleasure. Hannibal continues to lick the juncture where Will’s groin and thighs meet, causing Will to thrash ineffectively against Hannibal’s tight hold. With one arm firmly above Will’s hips to hold him down, Hannibal swings around without further notice so that he can lean over and he sucks the base of Will’s erection.

Will howls, his cock already beginning to leak clear fluid down his thigh. He can’t remember ever being this aroused in his life, Hannibal is all he can think about, he wants to beg and plead and scream for him to touch him, lick him, eat him, fuck him. 

“Please,” he begs, trembling and helplessly caught in his arousal. Hannibal looks up at him, kisses his thigh and then sinks his huge white fangs right into Will’s femoral artery. Immediately Will’s body thrashes and he erupts, orgasm painting his abs with long white streaks of hot come as Hannibal drinks deep from his thigh. Hannibal’s fangs pop out of his pale leg and he licks the holes to seal them up before chasing the two drips of crimson slowly making their way down Will’s leg.  He catches those also with his tongue and then looks up at Will, who is positively wrecked. 

“Are you ready to drink, love?” Hannibal asks, popping a slight cut into his wrist with one of his own fangs for Will, bringing his wrist to Will’s mouth. He doesn’t hesitate to latch on and moans, drinking down Hannibal’s blood like it’s the sweetest nectar he’s ever tasted.

Probably because it is.

As he sucks on Hannibal’s wrist, Hannibal has turned his attention to licking up Will’s release off of his stomach, humming contentedly as he does so.

“That’s enough, mylimasis,” Hannibal states, gently taking his arm back, kissing Will deeply and mixing their blood over his palate as well, moaning at the blend of flavors they created in their debauchery. “Next time you can have much, much more.”

Will dazedly looks up at Hannibal, gently touching his bloody face with his fingertips. “Next time. But we aren’t finished with this time,” he teases, the fire in Hannibal’s blood now racing through his as he begins unbuttoning Hannibal’s shirt.  Hannibal pauses. 

It’s is possible to be sexually intimate with humans of course, but they are so fragile, and the only humans Hannibal has seduced in centuries was so that he could eat them. Could he be intimate with Will and not lose control? 

“Please Hannibal, before you go, I need to feel you. I need to feel you everywhere. Please,” he grabs Hannibal’s erection so that his intent is crystal clear. 

“Oh Will… I can deny you nothing,” he tenderly replies, his words seemingly at odds with their bloodied appearance. He helps Will remove the rest of his clothing and lies quietly next to Will.

“So perfect, hard, like marble…” Will mumbles, kissing his way down Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal’s hands are balled up in fists at his sides, he’s determined to let Will explore him with his hands and mouth just as Hannibal did to him. His fangs are still dropped, and he almost loses it when Will leans up and licks one, nicking his tongue in the process and then pulling him over for another scorching kiss. Will pulls off his mouth and shimmies down his long, pale body until his hips are straddling one of Hannibal’s strong thighs and then without warning he wraps his hand around Hannibal’s long, heavy cock and brings his hot, wet mouth to it, sliding down its length as far as he can take it. 

Hannibal’s fists hit the bed, and he grasps at the luxury bedding, tearing it, causing some of the feathers from the duvet to fly around them like they are in a snowstorm. “Oh  _ William!” _ he gasps, doing his best to remain still and not accidentally buck his beloved human off of the bed. 

Will hums and continues to work his hand up and down, sliding his hand around the bottom of Hannibal’s dick as his scorching mouth continues to lap at the head. He works Hannibal at a feverish pace, desperate for him to coat the inside of his mouth with his essence. 

“Will…” Hannibal gasps, “I’m going to…” Will moans enthusiastically as a response and Hannibal lets go, flooding Will’s desperate mouth with his cool, salty-sweet pink-tinged release.

“I think we owe Margot a new bed,” Will teases from between Hannibal’s legs, eyes flashing. 


	8. Deep Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Abigail settle in. Hannibal travels to Florence. Some smut happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the filthiest thing I have ever written. So far.

_ Chapter 8: Deep Six _

_ “It’s like a stranger had a key _

_ Came inside of my mind _

_ And moved all my things around _

_ He didn’t know snakes can hear their prey _

_ Can’t try to break my psyche down _

_ It’s in my half-frozen wax _

_ And your artillery lead _

_ Do ya like our bed? _

_ Do ya like our bed?” _

_ ~”Deep Six” - Marilyn Manson _

 

_Hotel Cerretani Firenze, Florence, Italy._

Lounging languidly on the balcony overlooking the gorgeous Italian sun setting near the Chapel of the Princes, Bedelia DuMaurier sighs contentedly to herself, swirling a glass of warm blood in a crystal goblet. It has been five days since she arrived in Florence, and after finding the Vampire Council headquarters empty as a tomb (pun not intended), Bedelia had no choice but to head off on her own. 

Initially her thought was to disappear as far away from Florence as she could, to run as fast and as far as her nearly inexhaustible funds would allow her to do. Eventually her panic subsided enough to think clearly enough to formulate a plan, as weak as it is: surround herself with the worldly pleasures that she and Hannibal spent so many decades together enjoying. It may save her skin, even if it’s only due to her exploiting pathetic human emotions such as nostalgia.

Hannibal does seem to be all about the human feelings in recent weeks.

And so she waits, dressed in a gorgeous black lace robe, a vision of marble temptation, golden hair cascading down the pale column of her elegant neck. She knows he’s coming, her blood can feel it. Every step closer feels alternately like a balm and a shot of adrenaline. Her maker is coming.

***

Zipping through the streets on his new Ducati (thanks to the human whose neck he snapped to “borrow” his bike), Hannibal allows the bloodbond to Bedelia to guide him to neighborhood where she has holed up. He can’t help but chuckle at her boldness when he realizes where she’s waiting for him. 

In the 17th Century she and Hannibal spent the better part of a decade based out of the palace that was later converted to the Hotel Cerretani Firenze, eating, drinking, dancing, fucking. Of course she would bring him back here, a pathetic last attempt to recapture shared pleasures long lost and forgotten. 

He heads upstairs to the prestige suite, not bothering to quiet his boots on the staircase as he makes his way towards Bedelia’s ultimate fate. He opens the door, places his helmet down inside and looks out to the billowing drapery blowing back inside the large patio window where Bedelia is perched. Because he knows she knows he’s there, and can hear every little sound around them, even the mouse hidden in the wall, he decides to greet her. After all, there’s no reason to be rude, is there?

“Bonsoir,” he purrs.

***

Will’s cheeks literally hurt from smiling.

He always had hoped that he’d have the opportunity to be a parent, but once he hit his 40’s in earnest he started to wonder if maybe it wasn’t in the cards after all. Standing on his porch sipping a steaming cup of coffee in the dark of the early evening, watching Abigail run and laugh and play with his dogs, happiness feels like it’s going to burst free from his chest and take flight. He can’t believe how much he loves her.

Before they left the Verger mansion, Will went to Margot with his concerns about the situation in Hannibal’s absence, being the only other vampire he knows that seems decent enough to ask for advice. He had many questions about Abigail’s new biology and how he can best help her navigate it while not losing the good parts of humanity, and Margot was kind enough to share her origin story. 

Margot admitted that she never wanted to be a vampire. Mason force turned her, not wanting to lose his favorite plaything. Over time she became at peace with her fate, planning on making changes to the Vampire Council as soon as she could get Mason out. Unfortunately for everyone, that look a lot longer than she ever imagined. 

Watching Winston chase Buster, Will thinks about how Margot also shared a lot about how to control Vampire urges after being turned, helping soothe some of his hesitant nerves about the process. Technically, you do die as a human in the middle of it, but are reborn into something far more powerful. Fortunately, he will have a maker that is interested in making it as pleasurable as possible and helping him navigate afterwards. 

The most stunning revelation from his extensive conversations with Margot in the past few days is something he never expected. Under a secret branch of Verger Farms she has been funding research for a synthetic blood substitute. The implications of what this could mean for both vampires and humans can’t be overly emphasised. Without needing humans for food, the dynamic could change completely, the largest being that the new modern Council (led by Margot) is interested in what they call mainstreaming.

Of course there will be massive panic and kick back if Vampires “come out” and admit to humans that they are in fact real, but if the immediate threat of being seen as a food source is taken away, the more positive aspects of the virus can be appreciated.  Perhaps a careful balance can be achieved. 

As he continues to watch his daughter call after their dogs, he ruminates about how strong she is and how strong women are in general. After all the torture and abuse Mason piled on her for literal lifetimes, Margot brilliantly worked on several methods for her way out, and still has appreciated humanity in all its beautiful fragility in the process. 

Kindness.

If Will ends up on the other side of his transformation and still can feel a basic sense of kindness and goodwill towards humans in general he will consider it a success. Even if his empathy will be sacrificed with his humanity, he knows that his family leave him behind. Margot has given him hope. It helps ease the sting of having his new mate halfway across the globe.

Having Abigail and her blood near helps, being of the same line. When she comes over to go back inside, they brush by each other lightly as she passes, half-convinced the other is going to disappear, needing the reassurance. 

They go back inside and Abigail curls up with Winston in front of the fireplace. She’s moved into Will’s bedroom upstairs after his insistence he prefers sleeping downstairs anyway. 

“Are you hungry?” Will asks her, going to the fridge. 

“Mmm. A little. Do we have any B positive?” She asks, licking her bottom lip unconsciously.

“‘Fraid not. You drank all of that yesterday. We’ve got lots of O left.”

Abigail wrinkles her nose, making Will laugh. “Hey, I’m type O, there’s nothing wrong with the universal donor! Figures you’d gain rare appetites even in blood from Hannibal,” he chuckles to her, making her giggle in return. Will’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, murmuring, “Speak of the devil… Hi! We were just talking about you.”

“Better the devil you know then hmm, mylimasis?” Hannibal teases back. “How are you and Abigail fairing?”

“We’re just fine. She’s bummed that the blood supply isn’t as varied as she’d like but we are in no way low. “

“Let me guess, B positive?” Will laughs and Hannibal continues, humming, “My favorite.”

“Soon to be my favorite too, I assume,” Will quietly flirts, turning his back on Abigail and closing his eyes to better absorb the soothing tones of Hannibal’s voice.

“Yes, soon. I’m flying back this evening, I will be there sometime early in the morning. Should I have the valet take me to my home or to yours?”

“Um….” Will thinks.

“There is more privacy at mine,” Hannibal purrs.

Will’s mind runs wild with the possibilities of their reunion and he swallows hard, feeling his cock twitch. “Your place it is.”

“Use your key. Wait for me. I’ll be home soon.” 

***

Abigail is tucked into her airtight room in Hannibal’s house and Will waits in the den by the fire. Will’s imagination continues to spin fantasies about what it’s going to be like to be turned. He tries to read but can’t concentrate, feeling like his body is too big for his skin and he’s about to break through. Apprehension has turned into excitement, and he can’t blame that entirely on the fire in his blood that Hannibal has given him. Will has issues sleeping typically, but knowing and feeling Hannibal coming for him is too powerful to miss. Besides, as his last night technically alive, he feels like he should hold a sort of vigil for the remainder of his humanity.

He drinks two fingers of Hannibal’s ridiculously expensive whisky and he waits. 

He knows he’s close, he can feel it. He can FEEL it. Sweat breaks out at his hairline and his breathing increases. His nervous system knows that there’s a predator nearby. A last opportunity to run. 

He won’t run. 

Everything is about to change. 

Will’s eyes slam shut and his body trembles when he hears the front door to Hannibal’s house open. Every step closer that Hannibal takes towards Will’s chair in front of the fire feels like a balm to his soul. Will’s eyes remain closed as he listens to Hannibal’s slow, heavy, purposeful steps and he smiles.

“Hello Will,” Hannibal purrs, reaching one cool hand down to cup Will’s jaw. Will languidly opens his clear cerulean eyes and breathes, “Hi.” He notices Hannibal’s pupils dilate when his tongue reaches out to wet his lower lip. Hannibal steps in front of Will, who lets his knees fall apart and Hannibal steps between them, still caressing his jaw. “You came back to us.”

“I always keep my promises,” Hannibal answers. 

Will nods, looking up at Hannibal. Hannibal is still in his motorcycle jacket and Will reaches both hands up and yanks him down by the lapels, kissing him with a ferocity and desperation he didn’t intend to reveal. Hannibal being so close has robbed him of all reason and self consciousness, he only wants to be closer. Hannibal straddles one of Will’s legs, using the back of the chair for leverage as he grinds down onto him, both men lost to the passion of their rutting. 

Will gasps out an “Oh God,” before Hannibal licks expertly into his mouth, causing Will to go completely feral. Will pulls Hannibal as close as he can, the chair creaking as he wraps his arms and legs around him, licking up the column of his neck as Hannibal’s arms move all over his body so quickly it feels like he’s  _ everywhere.  _

“Take me to bed, oh God, take me to bed,” he begs.

“Oh darling, I thought you’d never ask,” Hannibal breaks away from sucking on Will’s collarbone to answer and lift him up, crushing their bodies somehow closer. Their mouths pant and suck and bite and Hannibal has to stop and leverage himself against the wall on the staircase on their way upstairs to Hannibal’s bedroom. Grinding into Will against the wall, Will gasps, feeling their lengths brush together, sending lightening up his spine. 

“The things I’m going to do to you,” Hannibal mumbles, reaching down in the front of Will’s pants to wrap his hand around Will’s length. Will gasps from a combination of arousal and the coolness of his mate’s fingers. “You’re so  _ warm,”  _ he mumbles.

“Better enjoy it while it lasts,” Will teases. 

Hannibal looks up at Will, his eyes nearly blood red, his entire body vibrating from need. “Make no mistake, mylimasis, I promise we will both enjoy ourselves this evening.” Hannibal scoops Will back up and continues their ascent upstairs. Will giggles, causing Hannibal to raise one eyebrow in question.

“I’m just feeling a little Dracula’s Bride at this particular moment,” Will’s eyes sparkle and he can’t help but let out a genuine belly laugh at the beautiful absurdity his life has turned into. 

Hannibal stops for a moment outside the bedroom door. “Do you want a wedding, darling? I’ll drop to one knee right now if that’s something that would make you happy.”

Will blushes and shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter to me. Unless that’s something you want? I mean, rings would be nice just to avoid….you know…” Will throws his hands up, gesturing. 

“I like the idea of rings myself as well,” Hannibal agrees, pulling Will back into a kiss as he walks them over the threshold of the bedroom. He places Will back down on his own feet and shuts the door. As soon as he turns back around Will is on him again, hands everywhere. 

“I missed you so much, it’s insane how much, I’ve never felt like this… is it the blood? It’s not just the blood…” Will murmurs between kisses and touches.

“No, it’s not just the blood,” Hannibal agrees, dropping to his knees to unzip Will’s pants. 

“I feel like I’m on fire,” Will pants. 

“That’s not just the blood either” Hannibal grins, and before Will can answer he reaches out and takes Will into his mouth. Will trembles at the sudden cool, damp mouth covering his cock. “Too cold, darling?” Hannibal asks.

“No….I….I like it….” Will admits, looking down at Hannibal and running a hand through his smooth blonde locks. Hannibal in response, begins carefully making circles around the head of Will’s dick, expertly licking the slit and gathering the pre-come that has begun leaking, humming at the taste. Will, feeling bold, reaches down and takes one of Hannibal’s hands from his hips and begins running it back to his ass. 

“If you’re going to enjoy my warmth before you turn me, we better make sure to do a thorough job,” Will challenges, looking down at Hannibal from underneath his lashes, knowing how fully seductive he’s being. 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth Hannibal grabs him by the hips again and shoves him back against the bedroom door, Will's cheek and hands hitting the door as carefully as he can manage. He’s vibrating with need, the beast is barely contained, it wants to eat and rut and fuck. Hannibal pushes on his lower back and pulls his legs out as he yanks Will’s pants and boxers to the ground. Will groans as he realizes what is about to happen and then he feels Hannibal’s mouth hot, licking the outside of his asshole and his knees give out.

Hannibal holds him against the door as he continues to eat him out, nibbling and licking, his cool tongue diving in at an irregular rhythm designed to keep Will on the edge and guessing. As he feels Will begin to open up underneath his ministrations, Hannibal slides in a finger and crooks it. Having intimate knowledge of the human body has always come in handy for a multitude of reasons. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh God Hannibal… I’m gonna… fuck!” Will whines, and Hannibal reaches behind him and tugs on his aching cock and Will explodes, his release painting his stomach, the door, and Hannibal’s hand. 

“Mmmm….one…” Hannibal smirks, kissing Will’s hip and bringing his hand back to lick off Will’s come, turning him back around again as he licks his stomach as well.

“Huh?” Will pants down at him, tenderly playing with his hair as Hannibal stands up again to his full height beside him.

“I’m going to count how many times I can make you come tonight.” Hannibal answers, kissing Will deeply so that he can taste himself in Hannibal’s mouth, groaning. 

“Fuck,” Will whispers.

“Mmm… eventually,” Hannibal concedes, starting to work on unbuttoning Will’s shirt as Will laughs again. Will thinks about how he never knew sex could be fun like this too. Will then begins to undress Hannibal in return, complaining, “Layers, so many layers with you…”

Eventually they are both naked and fall onto Hannibal’s giant bed, piled with navy silk and pillows and brocade, all designed with comfort and luxury. It feels like lying on a cloud as they roll and push and pull against each other, first Will on top, his mouth exploring the marble planes of Hannibal’s body. Hannibal can do nothing but shudder at the scorching heat of Will’s mouth as he takes his leaking cock into his eager mouth, humming with pleasure. It’s all Hannibal can do not to thrust up into Will’s hot, wet heat with complete abandon but he manages to keep himself calm enough not to. He manages to buck Will off of him in his enthusiasm as Will begins to unravel him with his mouth. 

“Hannibal, I’m ready,” Will breathes, reaching for him, a soft look in his eyes, and Hannibal knows what he’s asking for. He leans down and captures Will’s pliant mouth in a scorching kiss, once again noticing and enjoying the heat difference in a final goodbye to his humanity.

Hannibal leans over to the nightstand and retrieves the bottle of lubricant he kept there and pops the cap as he leans in to kiss Will again, coating his fingers with the silky substance. He gently kisses the side of Will’s neck, sucking on his pulse there, making Will shiver and go limp. Hannibal sits up, his back against the headboard and pulls Will gently into his lap, wrapping his legs around him. Their erections line up against Hannibal’s stomach, painting a gorgeously erotic picture that Hannibal’s mind palace greedily absorbs and locks down as he palms them both with one hand and reaches back to Will’s ass with the other.

“Breathe,” Hannibal coaches as he slides in one finger with next to no resistance, and then quickly follows with a second and then a third as Will moans into his ear, testing his patience to the max. 

“More, oh God more, Hannibal I  _ need _ it!” Will shamelessly begs, eyes rolling back in his head and panting as Hannibal’s mouth comes back to his neck, both men vibrating with need. Hannibal rolls Will up so that he’s raised above his cock and then Will impales himself with a glide and a moan as he bottoms out. Hannibal hisses, his eyes blowing red and fangs dropping. He closes his eyes and turns his head from Will.

“No… I love all of you and want all of you,” Will sobs, pulling Hannibal’s face back to him, grinding himself down into Hannibal’s lap, making them both gasp at the new angle as Will licks one of Hannibal’s fangs, nicking his tongue. Hannibal’s eyes pop open blazing and he growls. “Do it, oh God, do it!” Will pleads, kicking his head back, presenting the long column of his neck to his mate.

Hannibal grabs Will by the back of the neck and forces him to look in his eyes. “I love you,” he says, kissing him softly, a pink tinged tear escaping down the smooth planes of his fine features. Will gasps and his eyes also are wet as his head is pushed gently to the side and finally,  _ finally _ , Hannibal’s fangs are deep into his neck.

As soon as his fangs pierce Will’s neck the beast in Hannibal howls in pleasure, finally getting everything he wants, and he comes apart, shooting cool streams of come deep into his mate’s body as he drains it dry. Will can do nothing but gasp and moan, completely overwhelmed as his body also amazingly erupts again.

Hannibal lets out a low laugh and then whispers… “ _ Two… _ are you ready to be mine forever, my love?”

“I’m already yours,” Will gasps, using the last remaining energy he has to pull Hannibal’s mouth down back to his neck with a shiver. 

Hannibal moans as he drinks Will’s life from him, draining him to the point of no return. His pallor matches Hannibal’s as he is offered his mate's open wrist. “Drink and live,” he promises darkly and Will latches on weakly with his mouth and licks.

Hannibal grows hard again as he feels Will’s mouth sucking, taking his very life into him so that they might be together forever. As Will begins to come back to consciousness, Hannibal can smell his arousal along with the other changes happening as his human body dies and is taken over by the virus. 

“Shh,” Hannibal soothes his mate as he breathes shallowly, wincing slightly.

“Hu--hurts…” Will whispers.

“I’m sorry mylimasis, it is only your human body dying, pay no attention. It will be over soon.” He caresses his hands up and down to soothe Will’s slender naked form, now nearly the same temperature as his own. Will looks deeply into Hannibal’s eyes and nods, trusting him completely. His muscles cramp as things go haywire but Hannibal distracts him with kisses, soft touches, and promises if their future.

“Now we must rest,” Hannibal tells him, pulling him close to lie with their bodies aligned together like puzzle pieces. When we arise in the evening you will be reborn into darkness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better come back next chapter to meet Vampire Will, hmm?


	9. Cupid Carries A Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is reborn. Is he as sassy as ever? (Spoiler alert: DUH) Murder Wives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FANNIBAL APPRECIATION DAY!!
> 
> Okay, I'm a huge asshole for not updating this in forever but guys, I freaking couldn't write and today I was like, look, just fucking do it.
> 
> So here it is. All today so probably many mistakes. Still no beta. 
> 
> And I've never written F/F before now.
> 
> I love you all.

_ Chapter 9: Cupid Carries A Gun _

“Keep your halos tight

I’m your God or your guardian

One hand on the trigger

The other hand in mine

Because now, cupid carries a gun

Now, now cupid carries a gun.”

~”Cupid Carries A Gun” - Marilyn Manson

Hannibal gently plays with an errant curl as he listens to Will breathe and waits for him to rise.  He spends the better part of an hour listening to the silence of the room, broken with the occasional quiet breath from the sleeping vampire curled loosely over his chest. Technically, vampires don’t need to breathe, but as a holdover from their human habits most choose to as there’s some comfort in it as well as helping them to blend in. 

Distinctively unique from his past as a human Will wakes with a sudden start and instantly on alert, the predator evident in every slight micro movement of his new body.  His head pops up from Hannibal’s chest and Hannibal can’t help but gasp as Will tilts his head, opens his clear blue vampire eyes for the first time and looks down to ask, “What’s that smell?”

He’s  _ stunning.  _ Michelangelo’s David come to life in Hannibal’s arms. 

“That is your surprise, mylimasis,” Hannibal replies, eyes burning as they hungrily catalogue the changes that the Vampire virus has brought to his mate. He’s still lean, but his muscles seem to have somewhat lengthened as part of the transformation, bringing his features an ethereal otherworldliness in their asymmetrical delicacy. “Easy, darling,” Hannibal soothes his mate. “She’s locked up safe where we can ensure you are able to take back your birthright. As your maker, my blood is your blood, and her blood is your blood as well.”

Those clear azure eyes flash back with anger, framed with dark lashes that have also seemed to somehow lengthen as he slept. “Why do you smell like her?”

“Would you have rather I took the time to shower before I came to you? I simply couldn’t stand to be away from you for any longer,” he admits, pulling Will in for a kiss to soothe him. “I promise you she was not touched in any manner than matters.” Will groans at the distraction and his fangs erupt, piercing Hannibal’s tongue in the process. His shocked eyes fly open and he attempts to pull away to apologize but Hannibal only growls and licks further into his mouth, his eyes flashing red. Will realizes for the first time how much Hannibal has been holding back while being physical with him so far. 

Hannibal flips them around so that he’s on top, faster than the eye can see and Will laughs and purrs at the same time as he’s manhandled underneath his partner. Hannibal pins Will down beneath him with a dark chuckle and licks up the smooth column of his neck with a pleased hum. Will moans in rapture, everything is so intense as a vampire - everything is brighter, louder, wetter, MORE. They eat each other’s moans from their mouths for what seems like hours, whispering to each other until they forget where each of their own bodies begin and end. 

“I’m so _hungry_ ,” Will breaks away and whines, suddenly realizing he’s ridiculously ravenous. There’s no shame anymore. He is a creature that _wants._ Hannibal can’t wait to give him everything he’s ever even  thought of wanting. 

“MMM, while I would love to spend all day in bed exchanging blood with you, being newborn you will require more than what I can provide with my own body after making you so quickly after Abigail. Come, let us go sate your thirst.” Will licks his lips and looks up at Hannibal with pure need in his eyes, pouting. “You are quite the temptation, and we will certainly have plenty of time to do whatever it is that your dark little heart desires afterwards.”

“Forever,” Will demands.

“Forever, and ever,” Hannibal answers, softly brushing Will’s curls back off of his brow and kissing it softly. Reluctantly they untangle themselves to dress, never taking their eyes off of each other and rarely taking their hands off of each other either. 

“I just...need to touch you, this is crazy,” Will mumbles to himself, reaching to pull his mate closer again after pulling his shirt on over his head. 

“Yes, the bond is particularly intense at first to encourage us to emotionally bond along with our blood. It will always be strong, but in time as we are away from each others proximity it won’t be as painful to be apart,” he answers, tucking Will’s head under his chin and pulling him closer. Will sighs with pleasure and melts into his chest, nosing the side of his neck.

“Smell so good,” Will purrs reaching the top of his tongue out to sneak a taste. “Want to unzip you and crawl inside…” 

Hannibal chuckles and flattens his large palm possessively against Will’s hip. “Before the sun rises I promise you can be inside, mylimasis,” Hannibal hotly promises in his ear.

“Oh God,” Will groans, “I can feel you, I can feel how badly you want it too, inside…” Will’s blood is blazing with desire from both men, his empathy creating a continuous feedback loop of emotions between the two vampires as his active imagination fires. “I’m me...I mean, I’m still me.”

“It is fortunate that you didn’t lose your gift as part of your transformation,” Hannibal demurs. “All I have wanted was for you to see me, know me… _ have _ me.”

“I see you,” Will pulls back to look into Hannibal’s eyes, nodding seriously as he reaches his hands up to cup his mate’s pale face. “I see all of you, and I want it all.”

“Everything that I am, ever was, ever even thought to be is now yours, Will. Come… let us sate your hunger when you take your pleasure,” Hannibal kicks his chin up proudly as he offers himself, trying to motivate them to leave bedroom and head towards the basement. Turns out a promised fucking in the blood of the one who tried to kill them is what their beasts want. He takes Will by the hand and they head down.

***

Back at the Verger estate, Margot uncorks a bottle of a special vintage for her new favorite guest, Alana Bloom. Aware of Alana’s continued interest, Margot moves in a sensual manner that she knows is eagerly observed by the dark haired beauty across her. The initial spark of attraction from their meeting has been simmering over the past few days as the women have spent time together navigating the events at the estate.  Their close cooperation as they brought the house back to some semblance of normalcy has created an intense emotional intimacy between them as they navigate their new friendship. 

With hours upon hours of talking and sharing as they worked together ensure that Abigail and Will are settled and healing after their experiences a fast friendship and a deep level of trust naturally developed. They spent hours discussing their interests and pasts and were pleasantly surprised to discover they have many things in common. Best of all, now that Mason is out of the picture, Margot can not only be free to be who she is completely, anyone she cares for is now no longer instantly marked as a target. Not only does Margot have the attention of a beautiful woman that she’s attracted to, she now has the agency to act on it knowing Alana won’t be in danger. 

Margot’s loyalty to Hannibal remains unwavering, and she’s even begun to feel fond of the other vampire since he freed her from her brother’s clutches. So used to keeping her emotions close to her chest to protect those who she loves, Margot almost feels shy around Alana, but the look on her face when she accepted the invitation to stay another evening at the Verger estate all but confirmed that Alana was ready to explore their fledgling attraction as well. 

“Well doll, I’ve got to hand it to you - you’ve seen more shit in the last 48 hours than most people are exposed to in their entire lifetimes and you’re still here. Cheers to you, Alana.” Margot smiles, handing the brunette a glass of deep red wine and raising an eyebrow with a wry smile. 

“I have to admit, I am a bit shell-shocked,” Alana gratefully accepts the vampire’s offering,  shaking her head with a small smile back as she swirls the wine and then takes a sip, her eyes dropping closed as she lets out a soft hum. “Delicious, thank you.”

“Least I can do,” Margot answers, eyes hungrily watching Alana’s throat work, settling herself into an armchair with inhumane grace like she’s made of liquid porcelain. Alana notices it’s strange how she seems to move and stay still at the same time. Margot can feel Alana’s ravenous eyes as she allows herself to watch Margot situate herself across from her. Alana thinks she is stunningly beautiful in an unattainable way, reminding her of a Rodin sculpture in her delicate etherealness. There is a tiny thread of apprehension in the atmosphere and Margot decides to dive right in.  “I’m going to be blunt here, Alana,” she says, putting her glass down and reaching over to take one of Alana’s hands in her own. “How long have you been sick?”

Alana gasps and pales but doesn’t take her hand back from Margot. “How did you know?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can smell it.” 

“Oh god,” Alana’s voice breaks and she hides her eyes with her free hand. 

“No, no, not like that,” Margot demurs, softly pulling Alana’s small hand off of her eyes and kissing her knuckles one by one. 

“Ovarian Cancer. Stage three,” Alana gulps.

“Oh darling,” Margot clucks, a soft look over her features and pulls Alana out of the chair and onto the floor in front of the fire to hold her close as Alana finally lets herself go and cries for the first time in many days.

“No one knows, except my mother and sister, I just… I can’t…I don’t...”

“Shh…” Margot continues to rock and hold her in her arms in front of the fire. When Alana’s sobs begin to quiet down Margot lifts Alana’s tear stained face, brushes her thick hair back between her shoulders, gives her a soft smile and then leans in to kiss her softly. Alana gasps when Margot’s cold lips brush hers gently, oh so  _ maddingly _ gently. “Oh you wonderful, gorgeous girl,” Margot whispers, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore, don’t you know, vampires can’t get cancer?”

“Wh-what?” Alana stammers, confusion on her beautiful face as Margot wipes a few last tears from her face. 

“Be with me. Now and always,” Margot breathes. “I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. Don’t you see? We get to save each other.” Understanding dawns on Alana’s face and her hand begins to tremble. “You don’t have to answer me now,” Margot assures her, looking deeply into her eyes with sincerity. 

“You’d do that? Just like that. You’d do that for me?” Alana disbelievingly questions.

“Every day for the rest of my life, but we only have to do it once. The rest is all just a bonus,” Margot’s smile twists knowingly as she utters the last sentence and Alana can’t help but giggle.

“This is unbelievable. This isn’t happening. Vampires are real. Hannibal’s a vampire. Will and Abigail are vampires. You’re a vampire. People died. I helped clean up. I’m going to die. I’m not going to die. What the hell...?” Alana’s laugh nears hysterics the longer she talks, wiping her eyes and accepting kisses to her temple from Margot.

“Well, technically you are, but there really needs to be a less dramatic term for it, don’t you think? But if I turned you we would be linked forever, through our blood. I would always be able to sense you, and you’d be able to know me in the same way in return.”

“So I would always be yours,” Alana answers, considering.

“You will always,  _ always _ belong to no one but yourself. If I am lucky enough you choose to make your new life with me, then every day together will be a choice. If someday you decide you’d rather have your life elsewhere that is under your complete agency. I have no desire to control or subjugate you, only free you from the limitations of your human body. Your life is always your own.”

What Alana can’t possibly realize is that it’s virtually unheard of for vampires to make another without any sort of expectations of companionship and loyalty. What Margot is genuinely offering is unprecedented. Having been a prisoner of her brother for centuries, Margot would rather die before she would take another’s freedom, particularly someone that she could quickly grow to love. 

“Oh Margot,” Alana answers, tears in her eyes, gently pulling the other woman in for another kiss. Margot’s cool mouth aligns over Alana’s top lip, softly sucking on it, her tongue creeping out just for a tiny taste. The contact makes Alana tremble closer in her arms in a delicious way and Margot smiles softly.

“You are beyond lovely,” Margot purrs in Alana’s ear. “Fresh and bright as a winter’s first snow, eyes as blue and pale as chicory, ruby lips that just beg to be sucked...so soft…” she murmurs, trailing a bejeweled hand gently down Alana’s neck and down to the pale expanse of her upper chest. “I would like to make love to you…” she continues, “see how soft you are everywhere…”

Alana swoons as Margot’s hands and words full of light wash over her, feeling swept away completely in the moment and she leans forward to capture the gorgeous vampire’s mouth in a firmer kiss. Soft breasts crush together as they come together again, their slim legs winding around each other in a kaleidoscope of alabaster as they gaze at each other in front of the fire, pale and delicate hands everywhere. 

“I don’t know how I can be falling for you so fast, all I can think about is you...what you’re doing, what you’re thinking…” Alana confesses between kisses. “Now I can finally know what you taste like,” she flirts, teasing one hand up to the buttons on Margot’s blouse. 

Margot reaches up and undoes her hair, letting out a genuine laugh for the first time in centuries. “I do like a woman who knows what she wants,” she tells Alana as she pulls her softly back in so that she can take down her hair as well. 

“Oh I know what I want,” Alana answers, kissing her in earnest, causing Margot fangs to appear as she rakes her nails softly down her scalp. “Oh!” Alana giggles. “I guess it’s going to take a little time to get used to that,” she quietly confesses to Margot, working on the mother of pearl buttons on her blouse. 

“Oh honey, I hope you’ll never be used to what these babies can do. I can bite you so, so good baby,” she purrs.

“Show me.”

“With pleasure,” Margot answers, gently laying Alana back onto the white plush rug as she shrugs out of her blouse, bearing an exquisite, delicate white lace bra. Alana relaxes into the fire’s warmth and smiles, settling herself in and enjoying the view of the gorgeous vampire above her. She reaches up and gently palms Margot’s breasts in her hands, rubbing her thumbs firmly over the nipples. Margot hums a pleased reaction and rolls her head back with a languid sigh. Alana runs one hand over to one of the straps of her bra and lowers it off of her shoulder and rises up to meet Margot, taking the now-exposed delicate rose colored bud into her hot mouth.

“Yes!” Margot breathes out, so Alana smiles and moves to her other breast to tongue her other nipple, Margot making a wounded sound of pleasure that goes directly to Alana’s clit, causing her to squirm in arousal as well. 

“I love that you’re so responsive,” Alana soothes her with soft kisses and licks to her earlobe.

“Okay you little minx, I’m supposed to be seducing you, here,” Margot teases and she wrestles back control from Alana by pushing her gently back down to the floor. 

“I guess... we... just have... to seduce... each other,” Alana sasses, her voice interrupted with more kisses as she feels Margot’s delicate hands making quick work of the rest of her clothes. Spread out naked underneath her like a gorgeous Renaissance painting, Alana can’t help but feel utterly adored and relaxed in the other woman’s arms. The love buzz between them is positively electric when Margot asks, “Are you ready for me to bite you, baby?” Alana nods her agreement and smiles and Margot goes down to Alana’s right ankle. 

Kissing the delicate bones above her foot, Margot uses one hand to ground Alana, resting it just underneath her chin, being considerate to give Alana time to adjust to her touch before the intimacy of her mouth. She runs her hand, warm from the fire, slowly up Alana’s calf, gently caressing her way up towards her trembling thighs and follows behind with her mouth. 

Margot’s gentle hands are unlike anything Alana has every experienced. She’s being handled as if she is an absolute treasure, which of course to Margot she is. How quickly Alana lost the upper hand this evening as soon as Margot’s clever hands and tongue made her way up her body, causing her to shiver, moan, and then when Margot licks on her outer labia, actually  _ beg. _

Of course Margot is all too quick to oblige her raven-haired love, already so bewitched by her kind heart and brilliant mind that she can’t imagine but worship her as all women should be worshipped. Between the soft licks to her clit and clever fingers, Margot has Alana absolutely writhing in front of her, chasing release after release. Completely enamored with how her pale skin flushes in the throes of orgasm, Margot reflects on how she loves the taste of her, sweet and tart at the same time, coating her mouth and the back of her throat, a blessed balm to finally banish her loneliness.

Bringing Alana back up towards another peak with her curling fingers, Margot mouth’s her thigh and allows her fangs to slide in, slamming Alana immediately into another toe-curling orgasm. As Alana curses, Margot hums and drinks deep from her lover, enraptured by the sounds she’s able to wring from Alana’s mouth. 

Alana has a passing thought that she really would like to roll over and give back as good as she just got, but in her blissed out and weakened state Margot shushes her with a “Later, darling” as she continues to drain her. She picks her up off the floor and takes her to the bed to finish.

“I’m sorry, this part will be uncomfortable,” she warns Alana, “but it will be over soon and then you will wake up healthier and stronger than you’ve ever been. Nothing will be able to take you down, not even cancer. Well, almost nothing… now sleep, love,” Margot soothes, laying down next to her adored fledgling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only have to wrap this bad boy up now. And oh revenge will be so sweet...and dirty in that basement.
> 
> Still one more surprise to go.


End file.
